Beginnings
by bundysbaby
Summary: Sam Belden falls for Beth den Breejen, the new teacher in Sleepyside. The story of the courting of Trixie's grandparents.
1. Chapter 1

Samuel Peter Belden felt lucky. He lived in a little village upstate from the bustle of New York City, but still had the culture and excitement contained in the Big Apple at his fingertips. That is if he decided to leave the sleepy little town and seek out the pleasures and dangers within.

He was a homebody, however. It was not in his nature to seek out the fleshpots as many young men his age did. It could be because both his parents succumbed to the Asian flu epidemic, leaving him the family farm known as Crabapple Farm. He had to assume the responsibilities at a young age when others were sowing wild oats.

One regret was that he didn't have enough to go to college. Indeed, for the first few years, he barely could breathe. The pain of his parents' early death and just trying to figure out life without their guidance was difficult at best.

He soon realized he needed a job. Sleepyside Savings and Loan was hiring, and it was within commuting distance of the farm. And he was always good at ciphering, as his dad called it. He applied and to his surprise, was hired.

Apparently, old Mr. Augusta saw something in him because a year or so later, he was promoted several times and was now chief loan officer, with his own desk and telephone.

Sam began to consider taking a wife. It was rather lonely down in the hollow. The Spencers, his nearest neighbors, had moved into the huge mansion known around town as Manor House, but they weren't overly friendly. He was, after all, just a banker and they had quite a lot of family money.

 _I'm not too rough on the eye,_ he thought. He was tall and slender with the whipcord strength one develops when one does a lot of outdoor chores. His hair was as black as a raven's wing, and his eyes were as dark as molasses. A lot of the women attempted a flirtation with the handsome banker, but he was rather reserved and circumspect. It wouldn't do at all for him to respond to the overtures of clients' wives. Or the few women tellers the bank hired. Better to keep his non-existent love life out of the workplace.

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One sweltering, hot summer day towards the end of August, he was summoned to the front of the bank by a flustered teller. "Mr. Belden, Miss Van Voort his having problems getting her cash drawer open. Can you see if you can assist her? We just opened a new account, and the client is depositing some cash." The receptionist, a Mrs. Lemin, was clearly put out. The building was old, and during times as such as these, the old drawers would swell with the humidity and stick.

"I would be happy to assist." He pushed off from his desk and made his way to the teller's station. "What seems to be the problem, Miss Van Voort?" He didn't glance at all at the client waiting patiently.

"The drawer is stuck again, Mr., Belden, and I need to deposit some cash into the account Miss den Breejen has opened today."

Sam popped the drawer open and looked up into the prettiest blue eyes he had ever seen. "I'm, ah, I'm sorry for the inconvenience, Miss den Breejen." Gleeps, she was beautiful. Her hair was the color of the honey he collected from his hives and her smile lit up her face.

"It was no problem waiting for a while, Mr. Belden. I'm Beth den Breejen, and I am going to be the new English teacher at the high school."

"Welcome to Sleepyside, Miss den Breejen. I hope you'll find our little town a welcoming place," Sam smiled at her.

Beth den Breejen's toes curled. She read about it in the romance books she hid from her parents growing up; saw it portrayed in the movies she devoured in the Criterion. Mr. Belden was quite handsome, with kind eyes and a bright smile. Her spirits lifted, just a little. "Thank you, Mr. Belden. I am sure I'll be happy here."

Sam returned to his desk, a little reluctantly. It was, however, a good vantage point to watch the delectable Miss den Breejen as she completed her transaction. She was one fine figure of a woman, and Sam felt things stirring within him that he hadn't felt in a long time.

She was wearing a navy-blue suit. The jacket came in tight to her tiny waist before flaring out into a peplum. The slender, A-line skirt fell just below her knees, and she had on matching pumps. He watched as she pulled on her gloves and straightened that little nothing of a hat that graced her lovely head.

Sam frowned, a quick flash. A woman as beautiful as that must have a special gentleman friend back home. He was sure of it. Well, no use dreaming about things that can't be. He turned back to the next application he needed to vet.

The teller noticed the interest the two had in each other. She wasn't a student of human nature for nothing. "Mr. Belden is the loan officer here," she informed Beth. "He's so dreamy, like Clark Gable. He's single, though. His parents died when he was real young, and he had to grow up fast. That's why he's not over there, fighting. Last in his line. He's a good man."

Beth was startled. "He, um, seems nice. I think I'm going to like it here." She smiled at the chatty teller and took her leave. She stepped into the sunny street, looking up and down at her new town and digesting all the information the teller just blurted out.

And wondered if the very good-looking Mr. Belden was unmarried.

She walked several blocks to the charming boarding house that would be her new home. It was a three-story Victorian with a porch that invited the residents to set a spell and talk. It was being run by an older woman, a Mrs. Vanderpoel.

She was a quiet Dutch woman who recently lost her son in the war. Apparently, she had a daughter-in-law who lived outside of town, and Beth learned the younger Mrs. Vanderpoel was grief-stricken and couldn't bear to leave the house she shared with her husband, if only for a brief time.

Of course, Beth's parents found all this out as they vetted the woman and the house before Beth moved down here. Mrs. Vanderpoel only took in female boarders, and she was as choosy as Beth's parents. Although there was a long list of rules of comportment, Beth was sure she'd be happy there. At least it wasn't her parents' house any longer.

There was a certain freedom in that. And it would be doubtful she would have any gentlemen callers, at least not for a while.

Life was good. She had a wonderful job, a nice place to live and just met a man handsome enough to make her swoon. Beth gave a little twirl of happiness. Freedom!

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Beth had a couple of weeks before school started. She used that time to explore the town and meet the friendly residents, including a few of her students-to-be. Everyone was welcoming to the pretty new teacher.

In the usual manner of educators, she began to prepare her classroom for the onslaught of students in September. Beth met the other teachers in the small high school, mostly female as the war was still raging. At night, she listened to the radio Mrs. Vanderpoel had in the communal living room and all the news coming from the front.

She and a couple of the other teachers decided to grab a bite to eat at a new diner that opened right there in town. Wimpy's, it was called, after the cartoon character in the Popeye cartoons. In fact, the owner, Michael Owens, has a sign up above the grill that proclaimed, I will gladly pay you Tuesday for a hamburger today.

Beth giggled about that. The food wasn't as excellent as it would become; rationing was still in effect, and no matter how you dressed up margarine, it still wasn't butter. It was there, in the diner, that magic began to happen.

She was coming from the ladies' room, not really paying any attention to where she was going when she bumped into a solid mass of muscle. Strong arms encircled her so she wouldn't fall. "Oh, I'm so sorry! I wasn't…" Beth raised her face to look into the smiling countenance of that handsome Mr. Belden from the bank.

Her mind went totally blank.

Sam Belden was thanking the heavens above for having this little bundle of energy in his arms. He'd been thinking about her ever since they met at his bank. Not being too experienced with women, he was wondering how he could meet her again.

"Why, no harm done, Miss den Breejen. How are you? How do you like our little town?"

Beth stepped back from him, blushing a rosy red. "Hello, Mr. Belden. I'm fine, thank you. Everyone in the town has been so nice and welcoming. I'm looking forward to finally teaching in a few days."

"We are a town of friendly people. I often think there is something magical about Sleepyside, almost like that mythical village in Ireland, Brigadoon."

"Except Sleepyside doesn't appear once every hundred years or so," she said wryly.

Sam took a deep breath. It was now or never. "I would be pleased to take you around and show you all that Westchester County has to offer if you would like." There. It was sink or swim now. He held his breath, waiting for an answer.

"I would very much like that, Mr. Belden." She lowered her lashes as a new wave of rose highlighted her cheeks.

"Thank you. How about Saturday? I can pick you up in the morning, and we can take a drive, Can't go too far because of the gas rationing, but we can hit the highlights. We can go out for lunch after that."

"Saturday would be fine, Mr. Belden. I'm staying at Mrs. Vanderpoel's boarding house on Elm Street. You can come calling at nine."

"I know where it is. Mrs. Vanderpoel, the younger, is down out my way. Pity about her husband,"

"Yes, I think the war has touched every family I know. I need to get back to my friends. Thank you for the invitation, and I look forward to seeing you on Saturday." Beth stuck out her ungloved hand.

Sam placed his large, rough hand over hers and… something happened. Some kind of electrical jolt to the system that had them both widening their eyes. "It is my pleasure, Miss den Breejen. See you Saturday."

It began right there, in Wimpy's Diner. The Courting of Miss Beth den Breejen.

Beth practically floated back to her table, full of giggling teachers who had eagle eyes on the discourse between the handsome banker and their newest member. She was greeted with quite a bit of good-natured ribbing from the others and a little envy, too. Sam Belden was considered quite a catch in Sleepyside.

And pretty little Beth den Breejen just landed the big one.

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Sam Belden found himself wishing the days away. To save gas, he bicycled in for the rest of the week, arriving early in the morning and changing in the facilities at work. Gosh, she was pretty and nice! He wished his dad were still alive so he could ask advice. How did one go about making a good impression even better?

Beth was also excited and very nervous. She'd gone out on a few dates before, and mostly in groups with her friends. Her parents were old-fashioned and had a laundry list of rules boys had to observe.

This was her first, real adult date, alone with a man. Oh, she wanted to tell her mother, but she kept that secret clutched close to her bosom. Beth was aware that her parents would be down to Sleepyside in an instant to vet Samuel Belden.

And for once, she needed to make her own choices.

Instead, she wrote a long, chatty note to her parents and mentioned nothing at all about her impending date. She did, however, inform Mrs. Vanderpoel that she had a gentleman caller coming. When Beth mentioned Sam's name, Mrs. Vanderpoel smiled and patted Beth's hand.

"Sam Belden is a good man, Beth. One of the best. He goes out of his was to help others. My daughter-in-law lives out of town, not too far from him. She doesn't drive, and he picks her up occasionally and brings her to town."

When Saturday dawned, Beth was in a panic. Was she overdressed? Underdressed? She looked at herself in the small mirror in her bedroom. A shirtwaist dress in her favorite blue, with a white Peter Pan collar and elbow length sleeves, cuffed in the same white. White buttons marched down the front, and her waist was cinched by a dark blue belt. On her head was a small hat with a veil, and she splurged and used her silk stockings. Were the seams straight?

Completing her toilette were a small handbag and a pair of peep-toe pumps. She needn't have worried. She looked breathtaking. As the clock inched towards nine, she waited for Sam Belden to come calling. Mrs. Vanderpoel advised that Beth should await Mr. Belden's arrival in her room and make a grand entrance when he was announced. It seemed kind of silly to Beth, but she listened to the advice. And now, she was listening for Sam Belden's deep voice.

Sam drove up to Mrs. Vanderpoel's Boarding House for Women and sat in the old Studebaker. It belonged to his parents, and he kept it shiny and repaired. He ran a finger along his collar, nervous but anticipating seeing her again.

He grabbed to small bouquet he picked from his mother's flower garden. It was not as well-maintained as when she was alive, but he tried. He had on a lightweight summer suit in blue, a white collared shirt, a matching blue tie, and a white handkerchief peeked out of his pocket. Straightening his tie, he stepped out of the car with his charming flowers, tied with a blue ribbon – because it matched her eyes.

Sam rang the doorbell and waited. The inside door was open, and the screen door let in the soft summer breeze. "Mr. Belden. Come in, I'll go tell Miss den Breejen you're here." Mrs. Vanderpoel opened the door and smiled.

"Thanks, Mrs. V," he replied and followed her to the parlor. Thank goodness none of the other ladies were about!

"You wait here," she commanded as if he had any thought of following her upstairs.

Mrs. Vanderpoel climbed the flight of stairs and knocked on Beth's door. "Your young man is here." She barely had the words out before Beth was at the ready. "He is in the front room."

Beth descended the staircase slowly. She was so giddy, she thought if she walked any faster she just might trip over her own feet. Sam heard her hesitant footsteps and turned, his breath catching in his throat.

She was so beautiful, it almost hurt looking at her. Dark eyes locked with baby blue and the world faded away.

Beth thought he was the most handsome man she ever saw, even better than those actors in the movies. And he chose her! He stepped over to the staircase, helping her down the last step or so.

"You look wonderful." He wished he had a facility for words.

"You look handsome yourself." Beth blushed as she said it.

He remembered the flowers. "I brought these for you. They're from my garden, Miss den Breejen."

"Beth. Oh, they're beautiful. I love daisies. Thank you, Mr. Belden."

"Sam, please."

Mrs. Vanderpoel was charmed by the scene playing out in her parlor. My, it was better than those serials! "I'll take those and put them in a vase for you," she told Beth. "You can bring them to your room when you get home. Go on, the day's a-waiting!"

They both chorused their thanks as Sam opened the door for Beth and escorted her to his car, opening the door and closing it as she pulled on her gloves. It was finally happening.

 _Their date._

Sam turned to her, his hands on the steering wheel. "Well, I guess I don't have to show you the high school, Wimpy's, or the bank."

She giggled. "No, I think I'm very familiar with those landmarks, Sam." His name tasted good on her lips.

"Well, I think we should start in town square. If you look up, you'll see a grasshopper weathervane we call Hoppy. It's tradition to greet him with a 'hello, Hoppy' when you're in the square."

"What a charming little story. Hello, Hoppy!" she called out of the open window. He felt a thrill, right down to his toes. This fun-loving, kind, and beautiful woman was with him!

Sam took her around town, pointing out various locations and trying to orient her to the village. "Right over there is the train station. You can take the train right into New York City if you're so inclined. They run several trains a day. A lot of people a leaving the city and settling in Westchester County. The air is cleaner, and it's a good place to raise a family."

"Oh, I didn't realize we were so close to New York City. I've never been there. It looks fabulous when you see it in the movies or the newsreels."

Sam shrugged. "It's a nice place to visit. Go to a museum or a Broadway show, or even a first-run movie. It's nice to walk around it. But I like Sleepyside just fine."

"So do I. Bit, I think it would be fun to go for a visit. Maybe see the Statue of Liberty. She's on all my bonds, you know."

"We'd have to go during the day, Beth," Sam said without thinking. "They don't illuminate it at night any longer due to the blackouts."

"I'd love to go sometime with you, Sam. Maybe we could make a day of it."

"I'd like that, Beth."

"Where to now, Sam?"

"I thought we'd drive to see the Tarrytown Light. It's a beautiful lighthouse, right on the river. Nice walk, too. Afterward, I made reservations for lunch at the Glen Road Inn. I hope that's okay with you."

"It sounds perfect!"

They spent the remainder of the morning driving to Sleepy Hollow, where the lighthouse was located, It was a squat plug of a building right there on the Hudson, still in operation. "I heard they're planning to build a bridge here or in Dobbs Ferry. Pity to ruin the view," Sam remarked.

"The Hudson looks so calm. You wouldn't think there was anything dangerous at all under those placid waters."

"The river is full of hidden dangers. There are shoals right near the lighthouse on the Eastern side here. Up near Sleepyside, the currents can be swift and deadly. Did you know a female pirate named Sadie once plundered ships and villages along here?"

"I didn't Sam! Just goes to show you how deadly females can be."

Sam glanced at his watch. "We best be getting back to Sleepyside, or we'll miss our reservation." He tipped his fedora to a couple of giggling schoolgirls, making them giggle all the more. And in that one instant, that little gesture that made the day of two young ladies, Beth felt herself falling right into love. Here was a man who was witty, kind, and oh, so very male. It bloomed in her, a bud awakening to Sam's sun.

The Glen Road Inn was a converted Victorian mansion. "Oh, how lovely!" Beth exclaimed when she first saw it. All fancy gingerbread over the porch, where white rockers were stationed inviting guests to sit for a while and enjoy the gorgeous country.

"It is, isn't it? It reminds me of my next-door neighbors, the Fraynes. They have a similar style of architecture. The property is called Ten Acres."

"Ten Acres? That's unusual."

"I don't think whoever named it had flights of fancy," Sam responded wryly. "The property consists of Ten Acres. The Fraynes are local gentry. Nell and James. They are well-off, but salt-of-the-earth types. A young couple, our age. James' mother lives with them. His father died during The Great War." Sam shook his head.

"So sad. And here we are, at war again." That was one of the reasons Beth was teaching. There was an enormous teacher shortage, and the state allowed her to take an alternate route to obtain her teaching certificate.

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Beth's parents were none too happy. She loved them dearly, but they had her life all mapped out. They even had a suitor chosen for her, the son of their best friends. While the couple was nice enough, their son was a grabby, self-absorbed thinks-he-is-a-ladies'-man type. He even tried to corner Beth at a party.

And he rejoiced in his 4-F status. Beth thought that he manufactured something to weasel out of serving his country, and despised him for it.

Of course, when she told her folks, they were sure she was just misconstruing his actions. "You're a pretty girl," her mother told her. "And he's a man, honey. He just wanted a kiss."

 _Well,_ Beth thought, _I didn't want to give him one. Don't my wishes count?_

Her parents did acquiesce, with a bit of reluctance to pay for her college education at Nazareth College in Pittsford. It was an all-female school, and they felt she wouldn't be tempted there. The war interfered, though, and Beth, talking to a trusted advisor, realized she had a way out.

And here she was, sitting in a charming restaurant with a handsome man. A man who listened to her, her opinions, and treated her like a lady. It was a heady experience for an unsophisticated young lady.

The Inn was bustling, but the conversation was muted, Tables were set far enough apart so that diners could have private conversations. A few war posters were scattered about, reminding patrons that _Loose Lips Sink Ships_ and urging citizens to _Buy More War Bonds!_

Sam was utterly captivated by the beautiful, intelligent woman sitting across from him at their small table. She was lively, with a quick wit and a flashing smile. During their time together, he learned a little about her home life. She wasn't one to blather on and on about injustices. Instead, she moved to a town far from home and without knowing a single person. You had to admire the courage it took for her to do so.

Sitting there, eating their simple meal of meatloaf, mashed potatoes with gravy, and beans from the Inn's Victory Garden, Sam felt content. It was a feeling he hadn't had since his parents died. Underneath that feeling were the sparks reminding him he was a young man, and she was a gorgeous woman.

A woman he wanted to see more of, and not just in a dating way. When he found himself wondering what she looked like in a bathing suit, he flushed a little and directed his thoughts to more appropriate channels.

"School starts Monday. Are you nervous at all?" He imagined all those hormonal teenage boys would fall in love with her at first sight.

"No, I'm not. I think that this is what I was born to do, teach. I can't wait, Sam." Beth thought for a moment and added a little to her declaration. "I hope that someday I'll have a family, too. Teaching doesn't end in school, you know. It starts in the home and ends in the home." A rose flush bloomed on her cheeks. Imagine talking to a man you barely knew about… about having a family! It was scandalous.

"I agree with you, Beth. It's important that parents teach their children manners and morals and maybe just a little of readin', writin', and 'rithmetic. Not too far from my farm is a one-room school house. My father and a few of the children in my neck of Sleepyside went to school there, before the schools in town were built. When the weather was bad, their parents did the teaching."

"Sure did," Beth nodded. "How do you like working in the bank? I'm sure that must be both wonderful and terrible."

"It is. I'm the chief loan officer. You know, money is tight because of the war, and it kills me to have to say no at times. It was bad enough during the Depression when people were losing their homes and businesses left and right."

"Do people ever get angry at you? When I was student teaching, I had one family whose child, I believe, will grow up to be Al Capone or Bugsy Siegel. The kid was flunking everything and didn't care at all. The parents came in, screaming that it was our fault and that we were a horrible school. It was frightening how uncontrollable they were." Beth shuddered at the memory.

"Oh, sure. Our receptionist has even had to call the police at times. You can't give someone more money if they're defaulting on paying the money they owe." He didn't add that sometimes he gave money out of his own pocket. Most of the time, people repaid his kindness many times over.

They talked and laughed through the rest of the lunch, and were both a little deflated when it was time to leave. As Sam drove down Glen Road back to town, he pointed out some landmarks. "There's Ten Acres," he explained. "Up on the hill is Manor House. The Spencers own that, and there is a lake on the property. They are wealthy, but I'm not sure country life is meant for them. They're rarely there. Right over here is my house, Crabapple Farm."

Beth saw a delightful, rambling white farmhouse with a wrap-around porch. It appeared to be meticulously maintained, and crabapple trees abounded. The gravel driveway led to a large barn, and there were riots of late summer flowers everywhere.

"It's lovely, Sam. Do you have animals?" Beth gestured to the barn as Sam slowly drove past his place.

"We used to have a cow and some pigs, some barn cats, and a dog. Now I just have chickens, and the barn cats take care of themselves. I'd love to have another cow and a dog or two. But, I'm at work much of the day, and it's not fair to leave them alone for long periods of time."

"True. Who owns all the forest around here?"

"The Spencers own some of it, and of course, the Fraynes own Ten Acres. The rest of it is just undeveloped land. I'm kind of hoping it remains that way. I had loads of fun as a kid exploring."

"Weren't you lonely? I know I was sometimes as an only child." But then again, her parents were stricter than most.

"I was at times. As we got older, though, some of my friends would ride their bikes up to the Farm, or I'd ride into Sleepyside. We snuck into the Spencers' lake any number of times." He gave her a wicked grin. "Still do."

That mischievous grin sent shock waves through her. She wouldn't think about it. Sam, going skinny dipping. No wonder ladies in the old days carried fans.

Much too soon, Sam was opening her car door. She placed her ungloved hand in his, and it happened again. That frisson of awareness among them. She gazed into those dark eyes and was hypnotized by what she thought she saw there, a fleeting expression her brain wanted to interpret as desire.

Sam wanted her. He wanted her more than anyone or anything he ever wanted in his life. When Beth spoke of having a family, he pictured her in the kitchen at Crabapple Farm, the heartbeat of the house. Nebulous little faces sat around the table calling her Mama and him Papa.

They walked up to the door at Mrs. Vanderpoel's Boarding House. "I had a wonderful time, Sam," Beth said, breathless.

"I did, too, Beth. How about next Saturday? We can take the train to New York City and be tourists for the day."

 _Please, please say yes._

Her blue eyes sparkled. "I'd love to Sam. Thank you so much."

"You girls here do have a curfew, correct?"

"Yes, we need to be back here no later than eleven PM on weekends, nine on weekdays. That's unless someone is working the night shift at one of the factories."

Beth stuck out her hand to shake his. Her mother drilled it into her well: Good girls don't kiss on the first date. But she couldn't resist him, or his well-sculpted mouth. Beth went up on tiptoes and brushed her lips across his, darting inside and closing the door. Once inside, she leaned against it, blew out a breath, and began to giggle at her audacity.

Sam stood there, stunned for a moment or two. A huge grin split his handsome face, and he bounded down the steps with a spring in his step and a lightness in his heart.

He couldn't wait for next Saturday.

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Back in Pittsford, Beth's parents were hosting a dinner party for their best friends and their son. "It's amazing what you can do even though we're being rationed, Irene." Debra Olmstead complimented her friend of more than thirty years.

"It is delicious," John added his agreement. Their son, Jerald, just sat mute. The Olmsteads had two boys in quick succession. Jerald was the oldest, spoiled and mulish at best. The other son, David, was somewhere in Europe fighting the Nazis.

Joe den Breejen also agreed. He knew how hard his wife worked to make a palatable meal.

"Have you heard from Beth?" Irene inquired. "How is she doing?"

"Yes, we've had several letters from her. She says she's doing well, loves it there and is happy." Irene blew out a breath. "Joe and I really don't like her being so far away from home. But, as she said, she's doing her part at home to support the war."

Jerald piped up then, his voice a bit whiny. "Is she dating down there?" Realizing he sounded like a spoiled child, he adjusted his tone. "I'd hoped we'd be together by now." Yeah, Beth with her pretty face and delectable body. Being married wouldn't stop him from going into Rochester and visiting the seedy side of town. And she was a teacher. She could make money until his parents kicked off.

"No, not at all. She's very busy getting ready for the school year to begin."

"I don't know if I'd let a daughter of mine go so far from home," John pontificated. "Too much temptation for a pretty young girl. And too many wolves out there waiting to take advantage."

"We went down with her to Sleepyside. She's staying in a boarding house for women run by a lovely Dutch woman. Of course, we made sure the establishment was on the up-and-up. Mrs. Vanderpoel assured us she'd look after Beth as if she were her own daughter," Irene said, stung a little by the implied criticism.

"Yes, yes. We did do that. The boarding house has some rules of comportment that are strictly enforced. I'm sure Beth will comply." Joe added.

"Just where is Sleepyside?" Jerald asked. "I've never heard of it."

"Oh, it's downstate, near Sleepy Hollow and White Plains. It's a rather delightful small village." Irene smiled. "Would you like more salad?"

The subject changed, Jerald grew quiet, Maybe it was time he paid a visit to wandering Beth and bring her home. Yeah. He'd talk to his folks about either taking the car or getting money for a train. He was sure they would agree. His mother and Beth's mother wanted this more than anything.

And Jerald? He'd be glad to get a new source of funds.

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Never had Sam Belden wished the week away as he was now doing. It was the first week of school, and he wondered what Beth's classes were like and if she was happy. He made plans for their date on Saturday. The Empire State Building, the Brooklyn Bridge; walking on Fifth Avenue and Central Park. He knew she would love to see the Statue of Liberty, but unsure as to whether there would be time. He decided to give her a choice as to what sights she wanted to see on this date.

Lunch at the Automat would be fun for her. Maybe Schrafft's or Katz's Delicatessen for that authentic New York experience. It was a lucky thing Sam was frugal.

Because shortly, he thought he just might be buying some nice jewelry.

Beth was very busy during the week, getting used to the adolescents she was now teaching. In odd moments or at night, she thought about Sam and that impudent kiss. Did he think she was too forward? Maybe she was, but, oh, it was nice.

He called the boarding house phone on Tuesday to speak to her and set their date. Sam gave her a list of places to go and see and asked to consider what she wanted to do on this trip. They'd take the early train, leaving Sam's car parked at the station, and he'd be sure to have her home by curfew. "No pressure right now. Just think of what you want to do this time."

It was the _this time_ that got to her. His unwitting slip of the tongue snaked a thrill right down her spine. Sam was planning on asking her out after this!

When she hung up and floated into the kitchen, Mrs. Vanderpoel gave her a knowing look. She'd seen that besotted look on both her son and daughter-in-law. "That was Sam," Beth announced. "He was setting the time for our date on Saturday." She sat at the table, eyes glowing.

"Sam Belden is a fine young man, Beth. You couldn't do better."

"My parents are going to be disappointed," she confided to the older woman.

"Why?"

Beth heaved out a sigh. "My mother has a best friend, someone she's been friendly with since they were young kids. Their older son has a year or two on me. It's been their wish that Jerald and I get married, ever since I was born."

"And you don't like this Jerald?"

"Not at all!" It burst out of Beth. She could finally give voice to her thoughts. "He's spoiled, rude, and selfish. I don't think he ever had a job more than a couple of weeks. He got… or maybe his parents did… declared 4-F, even though his younger brother volunteered and is serving over in Europe. He's, um, handy, too. Jerald, I mean." Beth blushed.

"He doesn't sound like much of a catch," Mrs. Vanderpoel replied. "Did you try talking to your parents?"

"I sure did. They kind of dismissed it all as being a boy."

"Hence, you're down here." Oh, Mrs. Vanderpoel understood, all right. After all, she did meet Mr. and Mrs. den Breejen. She could see they loved their daughter, but it was the smothering, possessive kind of love.

"You did right to move away, Beth. I know it's difficult to leave everything behind. You're brave for starting over on your own terms."

"To tell you the truth, Mrs. V, I don't feel brave at all. I don't even feel sad, just relieved. I'm happy here. Very happy."

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Jerald Olmstead paused in the doorway to the living room in his parents' house. Debra Olmstead was perusing a letter, probably from his brother overseas. Jerk. David was going to get killed over there, and for what?

John Olmstead was reading the paper, full of breathless propaganda about the Allies and their efforts to eradicate the Japs and Krauts. You couldn't escape it, the war, not even in the movies. The newsreels were full of happy crappy about how our boys were saving the world, and even the cartoons were polarized.

Debra heard him, looked up and smiled. "I have a letter from Dave. He's doing well. He sends his love." Deb crossed here ankles so that the little white lie wouldn't count against her in the long run. Her younger son did no such thing. But, then she knew that Jerald would not even glance at the missive.

"Yeah, well, that's what Dave would say," Jerald replied cynically. He knew his brother would say no such thing. They hated each other from the moment David was born, and Jerald went out of his way to make David's life a misery.

"Mom, Dad. I was thinking going downstate to see Beth. I really miss her."

Debra nodded. "That's a lovely idea, dear. I'm sure Beth misses everyone here at home. Some people more than others," she added archly.

Even John looked over his paper at his wayward son. The love of a woman like Beth would be the saving grace of his older boy. He'd man up, especially when the babies started coming. "How you planning on getting there?"

"Train or bus."

"Oh, no, no no." Debra shook her head. "Honey, you can't. The buses are full of a lower class of people with who knows what diseases. Same with the trains. John, we should let him borrow the car. We've been saving up our gas rationing coupons, and it's just gathering dust in the garage."

John nodded his acquiescence. "Yes, you may borrow the car, Jer. When are you planning on leaving?"

"Friday. I figure I'll go to see her on Saturday after I find a place to stay for a night or two. Who knows, I may even convince her to come back home." And if I get her in the car alone…

"Sounds like a plan. I'll get the car gassed up."

"Mom, don't tell Mr. or Mrs. den Breejen. I want to surprise Beth, and they're liable to call her."

A satisfied smirk crossed his face when his parents nodded. He was going to get Beth to agree to marry him, one way.

Or another.

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Sam settled Beth in the seat by the window. "I love trains! I always wished I could take a trip on the Orient Express with sophisticated ladies and dapper men… and murder."

He laughed at her words. "A budding Agatha Christie!"

"Oh, no, not Agatha Christie! Miss Marple. I don't want to write about mysterious strangers and murders. I want to find the bad guy and make sure he gets his just desserts."

"You know, Beth, I think you'd make an excellent detective. If they let women on the police force."

Her eyes sparkled with happiness. He didn't ridicule her or make her feel unworthy. "Thanks, Sam." She reached out and took his hand in hers, squeezed a bit.

Oh, Sam Belden was not going to let this opportunity pass him by. When she went to let go, he tightened his long fingers around hers and watched her reaction. If she appeared uncomfortable at all, he'd release her. Otherwise, this skin-to-skin contact was, well, titillating.

Her eyes widened a bit, but she didn't let go. Instead, she snuggled back in her seat, content to watch the passing scenery and holding hands with the man she was sure she was beginning to love.

Sitting there in the swaying railroad car populated by strangers, two people were wrapped up in each other, existing in that bubble of newly-discovered romance. Nothing could touch them, nothing at all.

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Jerald Olmstead was slowly driving around Sleepyside. It was another boring little town, even smaller than the one he and Beth were from. No bright lights, no big city here. At least at home, he was near Rochester. There were many pleasures to be had there for a man inclined to such. Gambling, women, jazz clubs and reefers.

The closest this little place got to any sort of shabbiness was a short street. Hawthorne was just beginning a decline into seediness. The houses weren't quite as well kept, and there was a general air of decay surrounding the place.

A lone woman was standing on a corner, hand on hip. Olmstead rolled up and stopped, gesturing to her to get in. After a quick glance, the woman complied.

"Need a ride?"

"You ain't the cops," she said.

"Nope."

They agreed on a price, and Sam drove to a secluded area. While the woman he purported to love was arriving at Grand Central Terminal in New York City, he was in the backseat of his parents' car being serviced by a lady of a certain reputation.

And he didn't see anything wrong with that at all.

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"Oh gosh, Sam, it's just like in the movies!" Beth gaped at the large crowds scurrying through Grand Central Station, as it was known locally. "I think there are more people in this place than in all of Pittsford."

"It does seem that way, doesn't it? Now, you just let me know where you want to go and I'll take you there."

"I thought it would be nice to see Macy's and Gimble's. I love the movie, Miracle on 34th Street," she replied, coloring.

"A walk along Fifth Avenue might be nice. I want to go to the top of the Empire State Building, I hope King Kong isn't making an appearance. I want to go on a subway and see the Brooklyn Bridge. Oh, so many things to do and see!"

"How about the Statue of Liberty?" Sam was enchanted by her enthusiasm.

"I think… I think that I'd like to wait on that one, Sam, until after the Allies win the war."

Sam grinned at her. "I'll make sure you do, Beth." With those six words, a frantic, fun day through Manhattan kept the two moving. Beth was stunned at the size of Macy's and giggled at the fact there was a skyway between it and their arch rival, Gimble's.

They strolled down Fifth Avenue and glanced in the windows of all the fancy stores, most having a patriotic theme in their windows. She and Sam even browsed with the swells in Tiffany's, in awe of the magnificent diamonds worth many thousands.

They took a dizzying elevator ride up to the Observation Deck of the tallest building in the world, the Empire State Building, right up to the 102nd Floor observation deck. Beth clung to Sam's hand as it appeared they were as high as the clouds and Beth could swear she saw her home town.

Lunch was at the Horn & Hardart Automat. The coffee was fresh, hot and inexpensive, and she was fascinated when Sam inserted a nickel into a slot and out popped s slice of fresh apple pie.

Later, they doubled back to Fifth Avenue and the large Schrafft's that was there. Beth was fascinated by the restaurant, staffed and run by women. They finished their dinner with a hot fudge sundae for two.

Beth sat back in her chair and grinned at Sam. "That was delicious. Honestly, I must have gained five pounds today, Sam."

Sam couldn't help it. He was a gentleman, and he respected her, but those hot, nearly blazing eyes raked her upper body. She had killer curves in all the right places, and the female in her called out to the male in him. "You're just right, Beth. Perfect."

That blistering gaze felt almost like his hands touching her in intimate places, right there in Schrafft's. A heat began to uncoil within her, deep in her core as a rose flush highlighted her cheeks. For the first time in her life, Beth knew the feeling of absolute desire.

The thrall to which both were succumbing was broken by their perky waitress bringing the bill. It's a good thing too, Sam told himself. Or else I might have jumped over the table and… He wouldn't let the tantalizing images of him and Beth doing what comes naturally invade his imagination again.

Beth glanced down at the table, suddenly shy with the man who was awakening her body and mind. All the homilies preached by her parents about what good girls did and didn't do rang in her ears.

And they didn't matter at all.

The couple decided on a leisurely stroll back to Grand Central. It was fun to people-watch, walking hand-in-hand in the most famous city in the world. News kiosks were hawking the late editions of the papers, filled with news of what was happening over there. Neither one of them wanted this magic day to end.

The conflict was accelerating everything. Men were marrying their sweethearts when they came home on leave or before they shipped out. There was a sense of urgency with the knowledge a loved one might not return.

Sam Belden had a slightly cynical attitude toward these abrupt romances and hastily arranged nuptials. He figured the clear majority of them were to scratch an itch rather than the meeting of soulmates. What would happen when all these men and women returned from war and had to settle down with someone who was almost a stranger? He figured love took time to take root and bloom.

Before he met Beth.

As they ambled down crowded Manhattan streets, Sam was doing a little bit of introspection about the bubbly, lively woman practically skipping down the street. Was he physically attracted to her?

 _Hell, yeah!_

Were all these feelings she was stirring in him related to that male need?

Some. He had to admit that to himself. But, there were other, deeper feelings settling into bedrock in his heart and soul. He thought about the future, about Crabapple Farm. About having her there, with his name tacked on to hers. Snuggling in bed. Having children.

Living life.

Beth den Breejen was _the one._

Beth's thoughts were following a similar pattern. She had the most wonderful day with Sam. He was charming, funny and oh, so… dare she say it, or even think it? Sexy. She wanted to be with him, damn the consequences.

Her mind pictured that white farmhouse nestled in the hollow outside of the town proper. Oh, she could bring those lovely gardens back to beauty. She'd plant lavender along with the resident daisies since Sam had confessed a liking for their scent. A victory garden out back. Maybe a cow or two and of course, chickens.

It was fast, and it was furious, this feeling that matured within her. She knew, just knew, that this delightful, kind man was hers.

And she was his, in all the ways a woman could be a man's.

When they reached Grand Central, and its crowds, Sam's arm snaked around her shoulders, pulling her close to the side of his body. There was no way anyone was going to separate them. His heart did a little flip when she nestled in closer.

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Jerald Olmstead dumped the broad back on Hawthorne. It was a pleasant few hours, and she was cheap, much cheaper than the broads in Rochester. They smoked a couple of reefers in between their gymnastics in the back of his parents' car, but he needed something to eat, and he was done for now.

Patty Jones watched the car roll away, before bringing her hand to her abdomen and groaning. That guy, Jerry he said his name was, hurt her. Hurt her insides in a way no other had. She crept to her room in the shabby boarding house run by the Olyphant family, the town's requisite bad guys. Her bed never looked so inviting.

Patty took some stock of her life. She left home to become an actress on the Broadway stage and somehow ended up selling her body in this crappy little town. How she got there wasn't important. Where she was going was.

There was a loud knock on her door. "I know you're in there, Patty. You'd better have the rent ready by tomorrow. Or else we'll have to figure out another way for you to repay me." The gruff voice of Oscar Olyphant came through the thin wood.

Patty shuddered in her bed. It was time to get out of Dodge. Go back upstate to her family. She only hoped they'd take her in. It would be a midnight flit, tonight. She heaved herself out of her bed and began to pack her meager belongings.

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The was a gaggle of pretty women occupying one of the booths in Wimpy's, and Olmstead just couldn't resist giving them all a big grin and a wink. They all turned from the creepy guy with the over Brylcreemed hair and sleazy stare.

It didn't bother him at all. No, because he knew underneath those prim exteriors, they all wanted him. He sat at the counter, close enough to hear their conversation, and ordered a burger and shake. Maybe he'd have a piece of that apple pie, too. He needed to replenish his energy.

As he was chowing down, he heard a familiar name. "I thought Beth would be joining us," one of the voices said.

There was a giggle from another girl. "Nope! Our Beth has a hot date today with that delicious Sam Belden. The banker."

"Really? Man, she's lucky. He's a dreamboat. I've been trying to catch his eye for months."

Jerald put down his fork and listened.

"Beth certainly did! He took her to the Big Apple. She was all excited about it. Said they were going to go sightseeing and out to lunch and dinner. She's been out with him before, you know," the giggly voice said in a conspiratorial manner.

There was a chorus of _no's and when? And how do you know?_

"I have the room across from Beth's at Mrs. Vanderpoel's. Sam drove her around to show her the sights her and then lunch at the Inn last week or so, right before school started. She told me he's a complete gentleman. She's so lucky!"

"Wow! They might as well be going steady!"

"It looks it's headed that way. Say, do you think we should have a poster contest for the kids? Best patriotic poster?"

Jerald Olmstead lost his appetite as the conversation in the booth veered off into school issues. Beth was dating another guy! How dare she! She was promised to him, and damn well he was going to claim her. She was acting like a loose woman, going on an all-day date in a big city like New York.

And a banker? God, he couldn't think of a deadlier dull profession, unless it was an accountant. Still, he imagined what the stuffy other man could be doing with his Beth right this minute.

It never dawned on him that he just spent several hours in the back seat of a car with a prostitute, but he was enraged at the thought of anyone touching or kissing Beth… before he had a chance. Well, he would just wait there until this Sam Belden brought Beth back to that crappy boarding house where she was staying.

He'd teach Sam Belden a lesson he'd never forget, and he'd bring Beth back home with him. Time to teach her who was the boss in this relationship.

88888888

Sam and Beth, oblivious to the events unfolding in their little town, hated to get off in Sleepyside. Maybe if they stayed on the train, the magic would last forever. "Would you mind if we walked to Mrs. Vanderpoel's?" Sam grinned down at her. "We have the time, and it's such a beautiful night."

"I'd love that. It is pretty, isn't it?" Although it was nearly the middle of September, summer was stubbornly hanging on.

Sam slipped an arm around her, pulling her close. Yeah. This was right. She felt right, tucked next to him. Beth nestled in closer as they ambled through town, saying hello to Hoppy and waving at the few patrons in Wimpy's.

A few streets later, they were in front of Mrs. Vanderpoel's. Neither noticed the man leaning against a car on the other side of the street, smoking a cigarette and waiting, His eyes were pinpricks of red rage as he noticed the couple's intimate touch. She never lets me even touch her.

They stopped in front of the steps and turned to face each other. "I had a fabulous time, Sam. Thank you so much."

"I had a great time too, Beth."

"How about if you come over on Wednesday after work? I… I can cook you a meal. We have kitchen privileges here."

She was sure he was sick of cooking for himself. A nice, home-cooked meal would probably be welcome.

"I'd like that very much, Beth." His large hand tucked a wayward strand of hair behind her ear. His knuckles trailed across her soft cheekbone.

The intimate touch made her shiver with want. She lifted her face to his, and he gladly accepted the invitation. Their lips brushed briefly at first, a tentative kiss. Neither could deny the electricity between them and the desire that had been bubbling all day beneath the surface flashed over to full boil.

Beth's arms encircled his neck, and Sam tugged her close, so close it was a wonder if there was an atom between them. She flicked her tongue along his lower lip, and plundered her mouth, tongues tangling.

 _This is what they must call French kissing_. It sounded kind of icky when she read about it in those forbidden romance novels, but in real life, it was making her hot. And itchy, in places where a good girl had no business being hot and itchy.

Sam was enchanted by her response, and his body was reacting to it. She tastes like hot fudge and heaven, he thought hazily. And he didn't want to stop.

They never heard the approach of Jerald Olmstead, never even knew he was there until Beth was wrenched out of Sam's warm embrace. His rough voice growled, "Just what do you think you are doing, Beth? You're mine." Just for good measure, he gave Sam a shove.

Olmstead had a grip on her arm, so tight it was going to cause bruises. "Jerald? What are you doing here?" Beth blinked a few times, trying to adjust from Sam's drugging kisses to the angry man holding her captive.

"I've come to take you back home. It's time you got over this nonsense about teaching in this backward little town. Your parents promised you to me."

Beth wrenched her arm out of his grip and began rubbing it. "Our parents may have wished we would get together, Jerald. I don't love you, and you… you don't love anything. Please leave." Her voice began to quiver, just a little, and Sam sprang into action.

He pulled Beth to his side, away from the angry man. "I believe the lady has asked you to leave." His voice was mild, but inside he was boiling.

Olmstead snorted. "Lady? Not the way you two were making a spectacle of yourselves in public. Did you let him in your bed, too, Bethy?" he sneered.

Beth's temper flared. Before she could even think, her hand shot up and slapped Olmstead across the cheek. Hard. "How dare you say that to me, Jerry?"

Olmstead didn't even think. The scarlet rage burst in his brain, overriding any sort of common sense that was lurking in the corners of his mind. "You bitch!" He raised his arm, intending to teach her a lesson. One she would never forget.

He was a brute of a man. But his arm was halted in mid-air and twisted behind his back. "You just better rethink what you were about to do, Jerald," Sam spat out. Sam gave the arm a little twist, eliciting a groan from the man. "I suggest you get in your car and go back to where you came from."

Beth was furious. "Go back home. I don't love you, Jerry. Never will. Leave me alone."

Olmstead shook himself free from Sam's grasp. What he didn't realize was Sam loosened his grip deliberately. "You're a whore, just like the rest of them. Wait until I tell your parents what you are doing, Beth. We'll end up together, anyway. And they'll be glad I'm taking damaged goods off their hands."

"Insult her one more time, and I'll lay you out," Sam ground out.

"Is everything all right here?" Officer Derrek Molinson approached the little group. Mrs. Vanderpoel had called the police as soon as she realized what was going on. Molinson was a block or two away and got there almost immediately.

Olmstead shook a finger at Sam and Beth. "Arrest them, Officer, for lewd conduct in public."

Molinson's lips twitched, but all he said was, "Lewd conduct?"

"I was kissing my girl goodnight when this… this idiot started trouble," Sam spat out.

"Well, Mr…." Molinson paused.

"Olmstead."

"Well, Mr. Olmstead, there is no law against kissing your girl goodnight. At least, not in Sleepyside."

Beth spoke up then. "He grabbed my arm, Officer." She proffered her bruised extremity. "Told me he was going to drag me back to the town I am from. He was going to strike me when Sam intervened."

Olmstead took a step forward, cop or no cop. "You lying bitch," he began and got no further. Sam Belden's fist went flying into Olmstead's jaw, and he was knocked to the ground, dazed.

Molinson raised an eyebrow. "Good shot. Get your girl in the house, and I'll take care of the rest." Molinson watched with a small smirk on his face as Sam and Beth hurried into the house. Oh yeah. Belden was well and truly hooked.

He turned to the man on the ground and offered a hand up. "I demand you arrest him for assault and battery," Olmstead whined, spitting out blood.

The tiny smile disappeared from the officer's face. "I think you better leave Sleepyside as soon as possible," he informed Olmstead in a grim voice. "Now would be appropriate."

"What? You saw that, Officer. That man assaulted me. What, because he's a hometown boy and I'm a stranger? I'll go down to the police station and make a report myself." Olmstead turned to walk away but found himself stopped by a burly man with a nightstick.

"I saw the marks on the young lady's arms. You're lucky she's not pressing charges against you. You say that she was your girlfriend back home?"

"Yes, why?"

"Because your shirt collar is smeared with Tangee lipstick. You know the one that changes color according to the woman's complexion. And that particular color on your short belongs to a woman the entire police department has arrested at one time or another. Patty Jones, from over on Hawthorne Street. Our local bad girl. So much for love and faithfulness."

"You can't prove that!"

"Wanna bet? Now, I suggest you go home to wherever it is you come from. Oh, and I'd get some ice on that chin right away. Sir," Molinson spat out the word, making it the vilest of epithets.

Olmstead's jaw did hurt. It was a wonder if that palooka didn't break his jaw. A new idea formed in his evil brain. He nearly snickered aloud with its genius. "All right. I'm going. I'm going."

Molinson tipped his hat back and watched the man leave. He had a hinky feeling about this.

Inside the house, Mrs. Vanderpoel and Beth were fussing over Sam's bruised knuckles. "Cold compress, Sam. It will help," Mrs. Vanderpoel bustled about, getting a clean cloth and running cold water over it.

"Thanks for calling the police, Mrs. Vanderpoel." Beth took the cloth from her and placed it across Sam's swollen knuckles, patting it gently into place. He had to hide a grin. He'd had worse scrapes working around the farm.

"I noticed that… that nasty man hanging around outside. I got worried." She felt the emotions running between the two. "I'm going to do a few things before turning in. Sam, you may stay a while. Lock up, Beth." Never let it be said that Alida Vanderpoel didn't do her bit instead of Cupid – who, she hoped, was sending flaming arrows of vengeance into enemy lines.

"Thank you, Sam. I'm so sorry that you had to endure that after our lovely day," Beth cast her eyes down and bit her lip. She would just die if he didn't want to see her any longer.

"I'm sorry you had to endure that." He touched the purple marks blooming on her arm. She sighed, a sad, lonely exhalation of breath. "What's wrong?"

"I know him. I know Jerald. He's going to run back home and concoct some wild tale. He'll tell his parents who will tell my parents, and they'll be driving down here to make my life an absolute misery unless I agree to go back with them."

"Surely, they can see what kind of a man he is."

Beth stood and began pacing the kitchen. "That's it, Sam. They don't. They had Jerald and me matched up ever since I was born. They overlook everything about him. I tried to tell them, but they don't believe me, or they excuse his actions by saying he's a man."

"What he did to you is nothing like how a real man acts."

"I know that. You know that. But our parents are all wrapped up in this romantic notion of uniting the families. Like something out of a Shakespearean play."

An idea was dawning in Sam's logical brain. It was quite… radical. Quite daring and impulsive for a man who left his childhood behind some time ago. "You're worried about your parents coming down here."

"I wouldn't be surprised if they came down with the Olmsteads, Jerald, and a minister," she replied wryly. 'They were against me relocating here, and when I insisted, they allowed me to come to get it out of my system."

"What if we could stop them in their tracks?" A wicked grin crossed his face.

"Really? How?" Beth was intrigued. Stop her parents? And spend more time with Sam?

 _Uh, yeah._

"Let's get married."

She must have misheard him. Beth would have sworn on a stack of bibles that Sam just made a statement about marriage. About marrying. Him.

Her.

Her eyes widened in shock as she stammered out, "G… get married? Did you say get married?"

He was calm. Cool. "Yes. I think that would be our best course, Beth. We, ah, we get along well. We're, um, physically attracted to each other. By the time your parents get down here, you'll be Mrs. Samuel Belden, and there ain't nothin' they can do about that."

"It's so fast, Sam." He noted she didn't dismiss it right out of hand. That was a good sign.

He shrugged. "Not any faster than any of the hasty marriages taking place now."

"Jerald is probably hightailing it back home now. My parents will take off immediately to come down here. There just isn't time for blood tests and waiting." Marriage to Sam Belden, though. It both thrilled and terrified her.

"We can get a special license. I know people, Beth. We can be married on Monday. It won't be a big affair, just us and a couple of witnesses. I'll make all the arrangements, and after work on Monday, we'll go to the judge's office and get married." He stood and moved closer to her. "Please say yes."

"I…I…" The hot look in his eyes was hypnotizing her. She wanted this, more than anything she ever wanted. Wanted him.

"We'll have to delay the honeymoon, too. I hope you won't be too upset, not getting a big white wedding and a honeymoon. But I promise we'll have one at the first opportunity, baby." He took her hands in his and knelt on one knee.

"Beth den Breejen, will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?"

How could she resist his proposal? Him? It was right. This was right. "Yes, Samuel Belden. I will marry you."

His face lit up with happiness, but something a bit darker and more decadent swam in those eyes, promising her untold delights. Something that called out to the very core of her. It made her shiver in anticipation. He stood and swept her into his arms, plundering her mouth.

And his Beth gave just as good as she got, right there is Mrs. Vanderpoel's kitchen.

They broke apart simply because the need for oxygen was paramount. "Okay, Beth. I'll come by tomorrow, once I have everything settled. Maybe you could ask one of your girlfriends to stand up for you."

"Maybe." Her thought was no so much to ask another resident or one of the teachers at the high school. No, Mrs. Vanderpoel would do just fine, if she agreed. "Do you have a best man in mind?"

"Yes, I'm going to ask James Frayne. He's a good sort, as is his wife, Nell. You wouldn't mind if she came to the ceremony, would you?"

"Not at all, Sam."

He opened the screen door and stepped out onto the porch. Sam leaned back in and kissed her again, sending those tendrils of want throughout her body. "Monday, sweetheart." He winked at her and took the steps two at a time.

Beth placed her fingers over her mouth. "Monday." She turned and walked back into the kitchen, turning off the light.

Softly lit sconces allowed her to climb the stairs safely. Mrs. Vanderpoel's light was still on, so Beth took a chance and rapped at her door.

"Beth. Is everything all right?" The older woman was still dressed but had traded her sensible shoes for slippers.

"Yes, ma'am. May I speak to you for a moment? Privately?"

"Sure, honey. Come right in and sit."

Beth had never been in Mrs. V's private suite. There was a small sitting room, and beyond that, a door which Beth supposed led to the bedroom. A radio was playing softly on a sideboard, and there were two comfortable-looking Queen Anne-style chairs.

"Sam asked me to marry him." Beth just blurted it out as she sat.

"And what did you say?" She didn't act shocked, or advise against it.

"I said yes." Beth paused. "It's not so much because my parents will be down here trying to bully me into going home. It's like I told Sam, they'll probably arrive with Jerald, his parents and a minister in tow."

"You said yes because Sam Belden is a good man and you're falling for him."

Beth shrugged, palms up. "Already did that. Fell for him."

"Let me tell you something, Beth. I've known Sam since he was in nappies. He's a good man, one of the best. And he's crazy about you."

"Do you really think so, Mrs. V?" She felt like one of the giggling teenage girls she had in her classes.

"I know so. I was married once myself, you know. He loves you, Beth. And for a man like Sam, that love is forever. You're a lucky girl."

"He wants to get married Monday afternoon. Sam is going to arrange for a special license through his contacts. We won't have time for a honeymoon or anything. Gosh! I have to check if I have a suitable dress!"

"I'll hate to lose you as a boarder, but I'm happy for you, Beth. You'll need to pack tomorrow. I'll run interference if your parents call."

"Oh, I'm sure they will. Especially when Jerald shows up with the swollen cheek and bruise on his jaw. Sam clocked him a good one when he started insulting me again, right in front of that nice officer."

"You need to get some sleep and start packing, young lady."

"I have one more thing," Beth began shyly. "Will you… will you stand up for me? I feel closest to you, Mrs. V."

The older woman was touched. "Of course, I will. Now scoot! We both will have lots to do!"

Beth stood and smiled. "Thank you. Thanks." Acting on impulse, she took a few steps over, bent and kissed Mrs. V's soft cheek. With a mischievous grin, she floated through the door, leaving Mrs. V to plot and plan Beth's upcoming wedding day.

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Samuel Peter Belden felt pretty damn good, but there was much to accomplish. He drove home, smiling and making plans. He'd call the judge tomorrow. Lucky that Seth Webster was a close family friend.

He went upstairs, taking the steps two at a time, into the master bedroom. His mother's jewelry box was there, and he took out the rings he wrapped in paper. His father's ring and his mother's. Simple gold bands that meant everything to them. He hoped his parents imbued them with the magic of the lifelong love that they enjoyed.

He glanced at the bed. It had the quilt his grandmother had sewn for his parents, a wedding ring quilt that was so appropriate now. Beth would be gracing that bed Monday night and every night after that. Sam peeked into the walk-in closet; a whole side was empty, just waiting to be filled with her clothes. The same with his dresser. An entire side of empty drawers, waiting for a bride.

However, for now, the only thing he could do was strip down, lay his clothes neatly on the butler, and try to get some shut-eye.


	2. Chapter 2

Back in Pittsford the next day, Jerald Olmstead rolled into town nearly fifteen hours after he left Sleepyside. He stopped along the way to catch some sleep and polish his acting skills. The black and blue mark left by Beth's date looked ugly, and Olmstead took the opportunity to make it uglier. A few bashes with a rock – just enough to leave bruises but not ruin his looks – would garner sympathy from the folks, both his and hers.

He pretended as if he were trying to sneak back into the house, but of course, he let his mother hear him. "Jerald? Is that you?" she called.

"Yeah, Ma."

"Come and see Dad and me. Tell us all about your visit with Beth. Was she surprised? Did you… oh, Jerry!" Debra Olmstead's questions were cut short by the sight of her son's bruised and swollen face.

"John, look at his face! What happened, honey? Were you in an accident?" Her gentle fingers swiveled his face back and forth as she examined the extent of the damage to her son's beloved visage.

"Get him an ice pack, Debra." As she scurried away, John led his son to the kitchen table. "How did that happen, boy?"

Jerald hung his head, as if in shame. "I really don't want to talk about it."

Debra returned with an ice bag that she handed to her son. "You have to tell us what happened, dear."

"I… I don't want to get anyone in trouble, Ma." Oh, he sounded so pitiful.

"Son, if someone did that to you, they have to pay. My word, that's assault and battery!" John Olmstead was outraged.

"Dad, really. It's nothing."

"Jerald, what happened in Sleepyside? Did you get there? Did you see Beth?" Debra imagined all kinds of horrible things. Maybe her son was attacked by a gang of ruffians!

"Ma, I don't want to get Be… anyone in trouble." Just a little slip, or so it seemed.

"Beth? Was Beth involved in this somehow?" John roared the question out. He wanted answers, and he wanted answers now.

"Okay, okay, Dad." Jerald tried to look as innocent and pitiful as humanly possible. "I got to Sleepyside a bit early in the day. I looked around the town… it seemed nice and quaint. Found the boardinghouse where Beth is staying. I decided to get something to eat at the local diner there." Jerald paused. "Ma, can I have a drink of water, please?"

Debra ran to get her son water and sat next to him when he continued his story. So far, it was all rather innocuous.

"While I was eating at the diner, one of the booths was filled with girls around Beth's age, you know, giggling and laughing. I kind of wondered why Beth wasn't with them until I heard them mention her name. They were talking about how some lowlife scum had taken a liking to Beth. They had gone out one time, and now he took her to New York City for the day! The entire day!"

"Oh, my heavens!" New York City was a den of iniquity to his parents. His mother gasped and his father's brow furrowed.

"I was shocked, but then I could see how an innocent young girl could be preyed upon by a wolf in sheep's clothing. I went back to the boarding house and waited in my car until they got home. They came walking down the block, and he had an arm wrapped around her as if to prevent her from escaping. Then, in full view of the public, he grabbed her and starting kissing her! Not a little peck either, but the type of kiss that should be reserved for a married couple. And he touched her. I didn't think twice, I pulled the guy off her."

"That's my boy," John inserted approvingly.

"I think he had brass knuckles in his pocket because I was on the ground and he was beating on me. Beth was trying to pull him off, and she got bruised. A cop on the beat came walking by, and I was so grateful."

"Did he arrest the thug? How is Beth?" Debra began to wring her hands. Lord, her boy could have been killed.

It never dawned on her that her other boy faced just that fate every single day, over there.

"No, he didn't. The cop and Beth's date knew each other. In fact, the officer took his side! He told Beth to get in the house, and the thug just walked away. I told the cop I was going to make a report at police headquarters, but he just laughed in my face. He said he'd testify under oath I started it. He said he saw the bruises on Beth and he'd say I did it and Beth wouldn't dare say otherwise. He told me to get out of town, or he'd throw me in jail."

"No! Oh, Jerry!" His mother's eyes were full of soft tears. "How horrible for you. And poor Beth!"

"We're going to march right down the street and let the den Breejens get a look at your face. I'm sorry you'll have to repeat the whole story, son. It's best to let them know what kind of a crowd their daughter is falling into. Beth needs to come home now and start her life as your wife. She can get a teaching job in town here."

Jerald smirked behind his parents' backs as they walked the block or so to Irene and Joe's home. It all sounded so plausible. A stranger in a little town, corrupt cops, and a criminal behind it all. The sweet, virtuous maiden who caught the eye of Mr. Bad and was now in his thrall. Damn, it could be a Hollywood movie!

Jerald repeated the whole sordid mess to Beth's parents, not caring one whit that he was frightening her mother and making her father's blood pressure rise to dangerous levels.

"This is unacceptable," Joe thundered. "I knew we shouldn't have let her move all the way down there by herself. Next thing you know she'll be hanging out with the likes of Al Capone or someone similar."

"I thought Mrs. Vanderpoel seemed so nice," Irene lamented, sobbing. "She told me she'd take good care of Beth."

"I say we go down there and get her and bring her back." The redness in Joe's face was lessening. "I need a day or two to make arrangements with work. Irene, I want you to call Mrs. Vanderpoel first thing in the morning and find out what's going on."

John didn't help matters by proclaiming, "I would have never let my daughter move away like that. It's just inviting trouble."

The implied criticism of the den Breejens' parenting skills stung their lacerated feelings. "Well, then I guess it's good you never had a daughter," Irene sniffled.

Jerald saw the danger ahead and steered the conversation back. "My face is aching, and all I want to do is get to bed," he inserted. "I slept in the car on the way home, and it wasn't the most comfortable night I ever had."

"All right, honey, let's get you home," Debra soothed. "We'll talk more tomorrow, Irene, Joe. Maybe you can get a sense of what is going on from Beth's landlady."

"I think they're all in cahoots," Jerald added, stirring the pot a little more. Planting the seeds of doubt that the landlady was some sort of high-class madam… well, he just couldn't resist.

"Yes, we'll talk tomorrow. Thank you for coming over and informing us as to the happenings in Sleepyside, Jerald. I hope your face heals soon." Irene still felt a little irritated with the Olmsteads.

"Yes, tomorrow, when we've all calmed down. We'll figure out what is necessary and we'll act on it."

It never even crossed their minds that Beth's rebellion went far beyond merely moving out.

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Sunday in Sleepyside dawned bright and clear, unlike the storm clouds that were gathering up north. Sam completed his homely chores around the farm, tidied up a little, and decided to make the phone call to Seth Webster. He knew the judge was an early riser, and once that was complete, he needed to walk over to Ten Acres to speak to the Fraynes.

Seth answered on the first ring, and Sam had to grin. Like a boy scout, the judge was always prepared. "Hello, Judge Webster, it's me, Sam Belden."

"Hello, Sam. It's a fine Sunday, isn't it? What can I do for you?" No beating around the bush with him.

"I need a special license to get married on Monday, and I was wondering if you could officiate, too."

"A special license, huh?" Webster raised his brows on the other side of the line but did not question Sam further. It was Webster's experience that silence begat explanation. Sometimes, too much explanation.

"Yes. My fiancée and I need to marry after work on Monday. Well, not need to in the way you might think need to." Sam flushed on the other side of the line. "She's a schoolteacher at the high school."

"Let me ask you one question in the stead of your parents, Sam. Do you love the girl?"

"Yes. People might think it's crazy or it's too soon. But I know, Judge. I just know." Sam did know, deep in his heart, in his very soul. Beth was the one.

"All right. Bring her over to the courthouse after school's out. I'll have all the paperwork. Make sure she brings her birth certificate. And Sam?"

"Yes, Judge?"

"Congratulations. I'm sure your parents would be proud." Like father, like son, Webster thought with some degree of amusement as the call terminated. Lucas Belden knew from the time he met Mariah Stuyvesant at a family church social that she was the one. Seth leaned back in his chair in remembrance of his best friend – and they were all of eight years old at the time – staring at the pretty little half-Indian, half-Dutch five-year-old girl and announcing, "I'm going to marry her."

And he did. "Well, Luke, I hope you and Mariah up there are looking down at your boy. He's a fine man and will make a fine husband." A schoolteacher, huh? Seth wondered if she was that pretty little blonde newcomer he kept hearing about in town.

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Sam walked over to the Fraynes' next door. He often marveled that his family's farmhouse was the beginning of a chain of three houses in this rural area, two of which were mansions. The Beldens, the Fraynes, and the Spencers. He stopped and looked for a moment, and that odd feeling of prescience settled in. Somehow, someway, these three dwellings were linked. Sam couldn't figure out why or how, but he just knew it.

A rustling sound caught his attention, and he glanced down to see a copperhead slithering in the bushes. He'd need to warn James and Nell again. The snakes seemed to congregate around the summerhouse, and James should trap them and release them into the wild. Most people would have killed them, but they ate varmints and were good for the forest. Sam just didn't like it when they came after his chickens, but then again, the foxes did, too, and every once in a while, a catamount would make its presence known.

James and Nell were sitting on the porch, enjoying one of the last summery days before fall set in. James was drinking a cup of coffee and reading, while Nell was looking off into the distance and noticed his approach. "Sam! Come on over and sit for a while. Would you like something to drink?"

"I'm good, Nell, thanks. Hello, James. How are you both?"

"Can't complain. The war is good for the stock market. What brings you here so early in the morning?"

"I have a favor to ask." Sam didn't sit in the white rocker next to the couple. Nerves were starting to get the better of him.

"A favor? Do you need us to mind the farm for a couple days?"

"No, no, nothing like that. I'm, uh, I'm getting married tomorrow afternoon in Seth Webster's office. Would you stand up for me, James? And I'd love for you to come, too, Nell."

"Married? I didn't even know you were courting anyone, Sam. Congratulations! I'd be happy to be your best man." James stood to shake Sam's hand while Nell fluttered around, going up on tiptoe to kiss Sam's cheek.

"Do we know her, Sam?" Nell wondered if it was that Betty from the bank. She was cute, and workplace romances were commonplace now that more women were working toward the war effort.

"No, she's new to town. Came from a little town upstate to teach at the Junior-Senior High School." Sam waited for the criticism that did not come.

"Oh, a teacher! A noble profession," James opined. "My older brother, Theo, is a professor at New York University. One of the youngest ever hired."

Sam leaned on the porch railing, relaxed and happy. "Beth loves her job. She didn't finish college but is permitted to teach under a special certificate. I'm hoping that she decides to go on with her education and finishes. I want to get my degree, too, but it must be part-time."

Nell patted his hand. "You just go right ahead, Sam. James and I both agree in the future a college degree will be most valuable." If they ever had children, Nell would make sure that they had to chance to attend the college of their choice.

"Thanks, thank you. I have a lot to accomplish, so I'll see you at the courthouse, say at four? Oh, by the way, I saw several copperheads on the way here. Be careful in the preserve, especially you, Nell." She was petite and delicate-looking, like a porcelain doll.

"I'll make sure I get the gardener to clear away the brush. Thanks, Sam. See you tomorrow." James Frayne made a mental note to talk to the gardener. It was so difficult to get good help nowadays.

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"Butterfield 8-3490." Mrs. Vanderpoel answered the phone.

"Alida, I have a long-distance call for you." Mae Ryan, the switchboard operator for Bell Telephone, announced. "It's from the den Breejens upstate."

"You can put them through." _Oh, lord, it's beginning._

"This is Mrs. Vanderpoel."

"Mrs. Vanderpoel, this is Joseph den Breejen. Is Beth available?" The tight voice of Beth's father crackled over the line. He decided to take the lead on this. Sometimes Irene was just too soft.

"I'm sorry, Mr. den Breejen, Beth went to church. She informed me that after church she has some plans and not to expect her back until tonight at curfew." Mrs. V crossed her fingers at the little white lie.

"Do you know who she is with?" Joe ground out.

"No, I don't keep tabs on my boarders' personal lives. They are all grown women, and they are all aware of the rules of the house."

"I have some information that Beth is falling in with an unsavory crowd," Joe began, but Mrs. V wasn't going to let him speak.

"Now, how is that possible?" she mused out loud. "Beth is all the way down here. I'm sure that folks are not traveling to your neck of the woods to gossip about your daughter."

"No, but…"

"I will leave a note for Beth that you called." Mrs. V hung up and giggled. It wasn't that the den Breejens were bad people, just misguided and misinformed.

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Beth hadn't left the house at all. She was upstairs, carefully repacking all her worldly goods for the second time in a couple of months. Was she crazy doing this, marrying a man she barely knew? Was she using him to get away from her overprotective and overbearing parents? To escape from a man she didn't want?

It wouldn't be fair to Sam if those were her primary motives.

She sat on the single bed in her room. Tonight would be the last night she slept in it. Tomorrow, she would marry Sam and share a bed with him, and all the delights of married life. Her mother hurried through an explanation of the birds and the bees, embarrassed and unable to look Beth in the face. She got the gist of it from her mother and gleaned other information from the romance books she was addicted to…and True Detective magazine, with its lurid tales of busty, loose women with questionable morals.

Beth felt the tingle in her core, the one that blossomed into an ache whenever Sam was around. The aches that demanded his kiss, his touch. No, she would have no problem succumbing to marital duties, but was that just the intense physical attraction between them?

She tried to think of Sam, happy with another woman. A little pop of jealousy tightened her gut. She was meant to be Beth Belden. From the first moment she looked into Sam's handsome face in the bank, she knew.

A knock at the door interrupted her musings. "Come in."

Mrs. Vanderpoel entered with two boxes. She set them on the bed next to Beth. "Your father called this morning."

Beth rolled her eyes. "Jerald ran to his parents and mine as soon as he hit town, I'm sure. What did Dad say?"

"He wanted to speak with you, but I told him you weren't here. He also began to bluster about an unsavory crowd with whom you are becoming involved. I told him I did not meddle in my boarders' personal lives and explained you would call back when you had a chance. Tomorrow or so." Mrs. V waved an airy hand.

Beth looked down at her hands. "I'm sorry for getting you involved in my family issues," she said softly.

"Honey, it's nothing compared to some of the people I've dealt with over the years. Now, aren't you going to ask me what's in the boxes?"

Beth smiled and bit. "Okay. What's in the boxes?"

Mrs. V picked up the larger one and set it on Beth's lap. "Open it."

Beth removed the lid and folded back the layers of tissue paper with gentle fingers. "Oh, it's a dress!"

"It was my wedding dress," Mrs. V explained. "I was saving it to pass along to my daughter or my son's daughter, but that is not to be." A smidge of sadness was reflected in her eyes.

Beth removed it from the box with shaking hands. It was beautiful, a dropped-waist 1920's style flapper wedding dress with a scooped neck, cap sleeves, and a gorgeous overlay of the most delicate lace, obviously from France. A white cloche hat completed the ensemble. "It's beautiful, Mrs. Vanderpoel."

"It's not quite today's style," Mrs. V explained and shrugged. "However, I thought I would offer it to you for your big day. I was quite a bit thinner then, and I think it should fit you nicely."

"Oh, I can't accept this," Beth demurred, but oh, how she wanted to! Her hands stroked the soft material.

"Nonsense! You'll put it to good use. Otherwise, it will just molder away in the attic. Maybe someday you'll have a little girl to pass it down to," she smiled as she patted Beth's hand. "Please say yes."

Beth bit her lip, then grinned. "Of course, I will! Let me try it on now. Will you help me?"

Mrs. V nodded and shortly after that, Beth, and she gazed into the mirror at Beth's reflection. The dress fit her as if made for her, the scalloped lace hem ending just above her ankles. Beth's curls escaped from under the close-fitting hat, framing her beautiful, glowing face.

"It's gorgeous, Mrs. Vanderpoel! How can I thank you?" Tears swam into Beth's eyes. Maybe this was a hastily-planned wedding, but with the help of this kindhearted woman, it was turning into a celebration.

"You can marry Sam Belden and have lots of healthy, gorgeous children who will pay me a visit from time to time and call me Oma," she responded brusquely. Her own eyes were tear-filled as she let go of another dream, but replaced it with a new one. "Open the other one."

When Beth opened the first box, she thought there might be a matching veil, but the cloche hat packed carefully in with the dress dispelled that idea.

Inside was a stunning peignoir set. It was fashioned out of soft, delicate lawn cotton. The gown was embroidered at the sweetheart neckline with lace that was repeated under the bustline. The matching robe was long sleeved with the same lace repeating at the shoulder blades. The material was nearly transparent, making Beth blush hotly.

"For your wedding night," Mrs. V whispered as if the walls had ears. "My cousin in the Netherlands sent it to me as a wedding gift for my daughter-in-law, but by the time it got here, they were married several months, and it was a little too small for her."

Beth slipped her hand into the sleeve and blushed again. It was semi-sheer, and her cheeks heated even more at the thought of wearing this gorgeous nightwear just for Sam. "It's beautiful, Mrs. V, Thank you."

"Not as lovely as you are going to look tomorrow, schatje." Mrs. V rarely spoke Dutch anymore… too much like German in these suspicious times. Yes, it was the right thing to do, she told herself fiercely as the young woman threw herself into her arms, crying with happiness and relief.

88888888

"Did you speak with Beth, Joe?" The paper was folded next to his chair, and she poured him a cup of coffee cut with chicory. It was a nasty and bitter brew, and Irene sipped tea herself as she bustled about making breakfast for them.

"No, her landlady said Beth went to church and was going to be out all day afterward. When I tried to question her about the company Beth was keeping, she terminated the conversation."

"She hung up on you?"

"No, no. However, she said she made it a point not to interfere in her boarders' personal lives if they follow the house rules. She was going to leave a note for Beth that I called." Joe huffed out his frustration.

"I just can't believe that Beth would fall in with a bad crowd, Joe. It's not like her." Irene slid the two plates on the table. A few pieces of bacon, an egg, and bread she made herself. She'd eat, but she wasn't hungry.

"You saw Jerald's face last night, Irene."

"And I also heard Debra and John criticize how we raised Beth." Irene was still put out about the comments. "How do we know Jerald wasn't in a bar fight or something?"

"He's a good boy, Irene, He just needs to grow up a little. Marriage and kids will do that." Joe unfolded the paper and began to read of the Allies' victories.

Irene didn't have much of an appetite. What if Beth really was getting into the wrong sort of crowd in Sleepyside? A young girl, on her own with the first taste of freedom? Then again, she knew her daughter or thought she did. Beth wouldn't jump into a relationship with a scoundrel. My word, Beth confided in her many times that she wanted to eventually marry and have a family.

Irene didn't want to admit the next words out of Beth's mouth were but not with Jerald. He was such a good match, though. As Joe said, he had a bit of growing up to do. Deb and John were constantly bailing him out of trouble, but as Deb explained, he was just full of boyish high spirits.

But with the Olmsteads' criticism of the way they raised Beth, well, Debra Olmstead might have been Irene's best friend since the cows came home, but blood was blood. And their son wasn't exactly the poster boy for good old American values, either.

Still, it was hard to let go of a dream they had ever since they were playing hopscotch, one that their spouses were glad to buy into. The uniting of the two families. It was almost like one of those royal marriages.

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"I've invited Sam to dinner tonight, Beth," Mrs. Vanderpoel announced. "He's going to bring Annika, my daughter-in-law. I thought, if you're done packing, he might bring the bulk of your things back to Crabapple Farm with him. That way, you'll only have a few things to move tomorrow."

"Thank you, Mrs. V." Beth touched her arm. "I'm sorry you lost your son in the war."

Mrs. Vanderpoel patted her hand. "Thank you. It's been difficult. Annika was a wonderful wife, and she felt the loss of him deeply. She vowed to never marry again. I'm hoping she might change her mind in the future, but they had a special sort of bond."

"May I help?"

"Certainly, you may. Now let's get going and prepare a feast!"

Sam was surprised but pleased when the elder Mrs. Vanderpoel called him to invite him to dine. It stood in the place of the groom's family's traditional wedding eve get together of the families. She also confided that Beth's father had called, referring to him as an unsavory crowd. Sam grinned at that. Gleeps, him unsavory. It almost boggled the mind.

He wondered what kind of stories Jerald spun. Wild ones, to be sure and ones that painted Jerald himself as an innocent. Well, Samuel Peter Belden had dealt with much tougher characters than a guy with a glass jaw and aggrieved parents.

He knocked on the door of Annika Vanderpoel's pretty little house. "It's me, Ann, Sam."

Annika Vanderpoel opened the door and smiled. She was rather tall and just a little plump. "Hi, Sam. Come on in. I'll just be a minute. I was baking Speculaas." She led the way to the kitchen, redolent with sweet spice.

"Dutch windmill cookies! I love them. Thanks, Ann."

"You're welcome, Sam. I was glad to have reason to make them, other than my own greedy love for them." Her eyes twinkled at her neighbor. "So, marriage? Sam Belden? The most eligible bachelor in Sleepyside?"

She packaged the cookies in a brown bag, and they walked out.

Sam snorted loudly. "I'm only the most eligible bachelor because everyone else was drafted." He realized what he said. "Sorry, Annika."

She settled beside him in the car and touched his hand. "No worries, Sam. People all over the world are living under similar circumstances. Eric loved this country and wanted to serve." Sometimes she got angry with him. He could have gotten a deferment. But, no, he had to volunteer.

"How did you meet her?"

"In the bank, of course."

Dinner was a hilarious affair. Beth resolutely put all thoughts of her parents aside and enjoyed the moment. Her breath caught in her throat when she saw him when they exchanged special smiles. Sam's heart thumped up against his chest, his whole being constricting at the sight of her in a pair of slacks and a soft, short-sleeved blouse in blue.

His favorite color, especially on her.

When it was time to leave, Annika hugged and kissed her mother-in-law. "I'll be by during the week. Come out for dinner next weekend, Mama." She turned to the happy couple. "Sam, I'll see you in the car."

Sam took Beth's hand, and they walked to the front door. "I'll pick you up tomorrow after school," he said.

"No, I'll meet you at the courthouse, Sam. I have a couple of things to do."

He searched her face, wondering, but was sidetracked by her shining blue eyes. "You really are beautiful, Beth. Inside and out."

A rosy blush suffused her face. "And you would give Clark Gable a run for his money," she countered.

Long, gentle fingers cupped her chin. "Until tomorrow." He kissed her then, a ripe kiss full of desire and dare she think it? _Love._

"Tomorrow, Sam." Her voice was soft and breathy, and she watched him get into his car, fingers at her lips.

88888888

She filched the cheap wedding ring a long time ago at a five-and-dime store. It came in handy at times when she was still trying to break into show business.

It took two days of hitchhiking to get back upstate to Albany. Two long days that left her disheveled and worn out. Thank God the last people that gave her a ride near her home were an old couple. The time before that, she had to pay for her ride by orally servicing the trucker. It was disgusting.

She slipped on the ring, straightened her clothes, and repeated her story. She married a man in New York City on a whim. He promised to take care of her. She later found out he was already married. When she confronted him, they had an argument, and he manhandled her, kicking her out with just the small suitcase she now carried. His name wasn't important since she never had it to begin with.

Yeah, her folks would buy it. It would explain her bruises and why she wasn't arriving in a limo, draped in ermine and diamonds.

She knocked on the door of the small frame house she couldn't wait to escape a lifetime ago. She pushed open the door. "Mom? Dad? I'm home."

Patty Jones braced herself for the reunion.

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Jerald Olmstead was raging at his parents. "Why aren't we rushing down to Sleepyside to bring Beth back? What's everyone waiting for?" His damn face hurt from the bruises. The girl that was promised to him was slipping through his fingers.

They, his parents and hers, made a vow. Beth was his. His and his alone. He slammed a hand into the wall, making the picture jump.

Debra tried to mollify him, just as she did when he was an infant and screamed with anger when she didn't feed him fast enough or change his diaper as soon as it was soiled. "Jerry, honey, it's not like we can go down there and kidnap her. She's twenty-one and a legal adult. We're not her parents."

"Yes, well, her parents don't seem to be doing much of anything," he sneered.

"Jerald, Joe has to arrange time off with his job. He can't just up and go." John tried to reason with his son. He was exhausting at times.

"Why not? It's a family emergency."

"Honey, I don't think that Joe and Irene are going to want us to go with them. It's a family matter. I'm sure they'll make Beth come back with them."

"They couldn't even prevent her from _going_ , Mother. You said she's twenty-one. How are they going to make her come back?"

"I don't know, Jerry. I'll tell you what. I'll give Irene a call Monday afternoon and see if they spoke to Beth. It will take at least that much time for Joe to notify his employer that he needs a day or two off."

Jerald slammed out of the kitchen in disgust and the next sound his parents heard was the explosive closing of his bedroom door.

"Whatever happens, I hope Joe and Irene bring Beth back," John sighed. They really needed to get Jerry out of the house. Maybe then they'd have some peace and quiet, and Jerry would be Beth's problem.

John saw nothing at all wrong with that.

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When Sam arrived at Crabapple Farm, he realized it would be his last day coming home to an empty house. Beth would be there, and sooner or later, he hoped their children would come along. Not too soon, because he wanted to finish his degree and he thought Beth might want to, also. The war would eventually end with a victory by the Allies, or so he hoped, and all those women and men either in the workplace or armed services would come flooding back. College degrees would give their little family a fighting chance besides providing role models for their future children.

He began lugging in her suitcases and boxes. There really wasn't much, and he suspected she left a lot of her things upstate. He placed her boxes of books next to the built-in shelves in the small office downstairs. The suitcases containing her clothes were deposited in the closet, and he hung her dresses up on the side he deemed hers. It looked… complete, somehow. Like a piece of the puzzle that had been missing was finally snapped into place.

Yeah. He waited a lifetime for the woman who would bear his name.

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The next morning, Beth was up and out of the house earlier than usual. It was her wedding day. Maybe not the way most girls dreamed of it – a long white dress, big party, and delicious cake, swaying to big band sounds. Nonetheless, she was excited and oh, so happy. And a little scared. After all, she'd be sharing a bed with a man who was almost a stranger. Sharing her body.

That thought gave her a certain little thrill that warmed her up from the inside out. When she knocked on Mr. Pender's office door, she took a deep breath when he bade her to enter.

"Miss den Breejen. Good morning. You're here bright and early. How may I assist you?" The principal of the school was a courtly, rather elderly man who was called out of retirement due to the war.

"Good morning, Mr. Pender. May I have a moment of your time?"

"Surely, my dear. Please sit." He gestured to one of the chairs in front of his desk, folded his hands, and waited.

"Mr. Pender, I need to inform you that I, uh, I will be getting married later this afternoon. I will return to work normally tomorrow. My fiancé and I have deferred taking a honeymoon for now." Beth twisted her hands in her lap.

"Why, congratulations, Miss den Breejen. I wasn't aware you were engaged. Who is the lucky man?"

"Samuel Belden. He works at the Sleepyside Savings and Loan bank."

"Sam! Of course, I know him! He was a student of mine. A fine man, Miss den Breejen. A fine man."

"I think so, too, sir." A smile lit her lovely face, and she glowed from within. Any thoughts that Pender was harboring about the hastiness of the marriage dissipated when he saw her face.

A love match.

"I will announce it to my students and the rest of the staff tomorrow," Beth explained. "When I go from being Miss den Breejen to Mrs. Belden." Just saying it out loud made it so real.

"Are you planning on continuing your teaching career?" It was a subtle way of finding out if she was with child.

"Oh, yes! I want to finish up my schooling. I don't have many more credits to take."

"Good. Good. You're a wonderful teacher, Miss den Breejen. Wonderful. I've heard nothing but good things about you and your students love you."

"Thank you, Mr. Pender. Thanks." Beth rose to leave, relieved that it went well. The first hurdle, cleared.

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Mrs. Vanderpoel was just hanging up the telephone as Beth was heading back to her classroom. Joe den Breejen called again, and again she put him off, this time with the absolute truth. "Beth went to school early," she advised the irate man at the other end of the long-distance call.

Joe den Breejen exploded. "Are you sure you're not covering for her?" he demanded.

Mrs. Vanderpoel's spine stiffened, and spots of color bloomed in her cheeks. "Mr. den Breejen, as I explained, Beth told me she was headed to school early, and I have no reason to doubt her. She had her lesson plans with her and papers she graded."

"Well, you tell her to call me as soon as possible. Reverse the charges."

"Will do. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have several errands to accomplish." Not the least of which was to bake one of her famous Dutch Boterkoeks or butter cakes. She would surprise the happy couple when they came back to pick up the rest of Beth's things. Champagne, too. All brides deserved a bit of the bubbly on their wedding day.

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Joe den Breejen banged his hands on the kitchen table in frustration, startling his wife. It wasn't often he lost his temper, but when he did, oh boy. "That woman is keeping something from us."

Irene flinched and asked who, although she was aware to whom he was referring. "Beth's landlady," he growled, pulling on his jacket. He gulped a cup of coffee but left his breakfast untouched. "I'm going to ask Earl at the office if it's all right to take a day or two to go down to Sleepyside and see what's going on with Beth."

"Okay, dear." Irene paused at the door, giving him a peck on the cheek. "I do not want the Olmsteads coming down with us. Any of them," she announced firmly. She was a good wife, an obedient wife, but there were a time and place to take a stand.

And this, she figured, was it.

Joe raised his eyebrows in surprise. "Irene," he began.

"Joe, I will not tolerate any of the Olmsteads traveling with us to see our daughter. It's none of their business. I don't need Debra or John questioning how we are handling this situation. Jerald… Jerald can be a loose cannon at times. And," she triumphantly added. "And he told us he was run out of town by the supposedly corrupt cop. He shouldn't go back there, at least not with us."

"You have a point," Joe conceded. "Well, pack an overnight bag, and I'll let you know when I get home if I was successful in getting time off."

Irene closed the door after him and leaned against it, already dreading the new several days and the conversation she was going to have with her best friend. A part of her, a tiny spark within her, also worried about Jerald Olmstead. Maybe Beth was right to leave home.

Maybe Beth was a lot smarter than Irene previously thought. Maybe she's smarter than her father and me.

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Sam brought a change of clothing to the bank; nothing unusual about that. There were times he had to meet with investors and others to give presentations, attend dinners, and the usual glad-handing the officers of the bank performed as a normal part of their duties.

His cheerful, bright mood caught the attention of some of the staff, though. Not that Sam was sad or a martinet. He was a serious sort of guy, though, and to see him laughing and joking was quite unusual. They attributed it to the rumors floating around town that Sam Belden and the new, young English teacher at the high school were romantically involved.

They were right.

For the first time in his working life, Sam began to watch the clock as it slowly ticked toward the time he would make his way over to the courthouse and claim Beth as his.

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Later that afternoon, prodded by her son, Debra Olmstead made the short walk to Irene den Breejen's place. It wasn't anything out of the ordinary; the two girlhood friends often visited during the week while their husbands were at work.

Debra pushed open the back door. "Yoo-hoo! Irene, it's me!" She walked over to the cupboard and grabbed a cup. Irene always had hot water for tea.

"Be right down." Up in the bedroom, Irene was packing a small bag for their trip to Sleepyside. She plopped on the bed next to the suitcase and sighed.

She did not relish the conversation she would be having with Debra. At least Jerald wasn't there to add his whiny voice to his mother's. Irene placed a hand over her lips. Now, where did that come from?

She trudged downstairs and pasted a happy-to-see-you smile on her face, although she was anything but. "Hi, Deb." Irene poured herself a tea and joined Debra at the kitchen table.

Debra was not going to beat around the bush by beginning this conversation by observing the niceties. "Did you or Joe have a chance to find out what's going on with Beth?"

"No, we haven't spoken to her yet. She was out with friends on Sunday, and this morning she left for school a little early."

"It sounds to me like she's either avoiding you or that landlady is involved in nefarious deeds." Debra raised her brows, and Irene felt like smacking the smug smile off of her face.

"No, Beth leads a busy life with lots of friends she made down there." Not like your son Jerry who can't keep a friend if his life depended on it.

"But are they the right type of friends? For all we know, her landlady could… could be running a prostitution ring!"

Irene set her cup down with exquisite care because she was just liable to smash it right down into the pretty, matching saucer. "No, she's not," Irene ground out. "Joe and I checked her references. Mrs. Vanderpoel is highly regarded in the community. Her boarders are like Beth… young teachers or young women working in the factories."

"That's what you think," Debra sniffed.

Irene bit her lip to restrain the torrent of harsh words that would come spilling out if she didn't. She breathed in, deeply. "Joe and I will be taking a trip to Sleepyside and checking for ourselves."

"Oh, did Joe get an okay from his boss? I can call John and let him know the date."

"Debra, I know you and John mean well. Joe and I discussed this, and we prefer to make the trip ourselves. After all, this is a family matter."

Irene's decision stung Debra. "I thought I was family, Irene."

"Deb, you know Joe, and I love both you and John." Jerald's name was conspicuously absent. "We just feel it would be better for us, as her parents, to investigate what's happening and convince her to come back home if needed. She might close up if you and John are there, feel ganged up on."

"As Jerald said to John and me yesterday, you couldn't prevent her from leaving. How are you going to persuade her to return?" Oh, Lord. Jerald was going to have a conniption at home.

"Leave that to us. Besides, as I pointed out to Joe, Jerald was run out of town by a supposedly corrupt police officer. If he goes back, he risks jail time."

"I'm sure we could speak to the chief of police and bring the threat to his attention."

"Debra, we live in a small town. Sleepyside is even smaller. You know how the locals close ranks against outsiders. We're all liable to get thrown in jail, especially if Jerald, um, gets obstreperous."

Debra Olmstead might secretly be tired of her favorite son's histrionics and temper tantrums, but no one else had the right to criticize him. Especially a woman who let her young daughter move hundreds of miles away into a den of iniquity. "I'm sure Jerald is no such thing. His manners are impeccable."

Irene finally had enough. "No, they are not, Debra, and you know it. Right before Beth moved, she complained that Jerald was getting fresh with her, and she did not appreciate it."

"I'm sure Jerald did no such thing."

"Are you implying that Beth was not truthful?" Irene's eyes widened, and her temper flared.

Debra shrugged her shoulders. "She's in the company of scoundrels. It speaks to her character."

"That remains to be seen. After all, we only have Jerald's word on that."

"Are you implying Jerald is lying? You saw his face, Irene!"

"It wouldn't be the first time he was hurt in a bar fight, Debra. You know how John feels about that. Jerald wouldn't want to come home and admit he went out drinking. Maybe he made up the whole thing to so as not to disappoint you and John." _Again_ remained unspoken, but hung between the two women.

Debra stood, nearly vibrating with anger. "How dare you, Irene? My child gets hurt trying to defend the probably non-existent virtue of your daughter, and you accuse him of making the whole thing up?"

Irene jumped up and went to the back door, holding it open. "I'd like you to leave now, Debra," she ground out.

"Fine." Debra stalked out of the door. "You'll see, Irene. You'll see what kind of a woman your daughter has become." She walked into the yard a few feet. "I'll be awaiting your apology."

Irene slammed the door. "Then you'll be waiting until hell freezes over." She brought her hands to her mouth, stunned she would ever utter that word. And then she began to giggle.

Jeepers, it was freeing. Maybe she should cuss more often!

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It was four o'clock, and Judge Webster, James, and Nell Frayne and the groom were awaiting the entrance of the bride and her attendant. Sam phoned Nell and asked her to pick a bouquet of daisies at Crabapple Farm. Nell was thrilled to contribute, and added a satiny white ribbon around the stems, making it suitably bride-like. She was waiting in the hallway to give it to Beth.

There was a flurry at the end of the hall, and Mrs. Vanderpoel and Beth appeared. Nell caught her breath at the picture Beth made. A gorgeous dress, a bit dated, but lovely nonetheless. A cloche hat with golden curls peeking out and framing a glowing, beautiful face.

"Hello, Mrs. Vanderpoel. You must be Beth. I'm Nell Frayne, I live next door to Crabapple Farm. Sam wanted me to bring you these." She handed the flowers to Beth.

"Oh! How lovely!" Beth brought the flowers to her face. "Thank you, Nell. Is Sam inside?" Her greatest concern was that he might have suddenly come to his senses.

"Yes, he is," Nell grinned. "And most impatient. Shall we put him out of his misery?"

Beth nodded and blushed. Mrs. Vanderpoel and Nell entered the chambers first as if they were bridesmaids at a formal wedding. They moved out of the way, and Beth was framed in the doorway.

Sam's heart slammed right up against his ribs. She stood there, young and beautiful; her cheeks were delicately flushed, and a tentative smile played with the corners of her lips. Her fingers clutched the homemade bouquet against her lovely dress. His Beth looked every inch the radiant bride.

Beth's bright blue gaze took in every little detail of the man standing, waiting for her. How handsome he looked in his black suit, hair neatly combed and a look of awe shining out of his eyes. It took a moment for her to realize that the awe was directed at her, and any nervousness she had fled. It was right. This was right.

She walked slowly toward him, although a part of her just wanted to run and marry him before he changed his mind. When she got within a foot, he reached out and tucked a curl behind her ear. It just bounced right back into place. "You are beautiful, Beth."

"And you are movie-star handsome."

Seth Webster smiled at their words. Yup, this was going to last. "Hello, Miss den Breejen. I'm Seth Webster, an old friend of Sam's family."

"Oh, but not too old," Beth teased. "I'm happy to meet you. Please call me Beth."

"We have some paperwork to be completed after the ceremony," he advised, charmed.

"Sweetheart, this is James Frayne. James, Beth."

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Beth. We'll be seeing a lot of each other."

"Thank you, James."

"Let's get this show on the road, shall we?" Webster advised.

"I have rings for us. My parents'. I hope you don't mind," Sam whispered.

"No, not at all, Sam." They both turned their attention to the Judge.

The ceremony wasn't long, but it was sweet and personal. Even though they weren't marrying in a church, Judge Webster made sure that both knew the vows they were taking were blessed by a benevolent God.

Sam's fingers shook as he slid the ring on her finger, the one his mother wore. It fit as if it was made for Beth, and maybe it was.

Beth said her vows in a clear, strong voice, slipping the thin gold band over his warm, long finger. How thoughtful of him to have rings at the ready; it was especially meaningful since the rings belonged to his parents.

It only seemed as if a minute or two passed when Judge Webster pronounced them man and wife and advised Sam to kiss his bride. Giving her a hot look, Sam swept her up in his arms and kissed her breathless.

"Let's get the papers done, and everyone is invited back to my house for Boterkoek and Champagne," Mrs. V announced after the usual round of congratulations.

"I'm not one to pass up your cake," Webster laughed. "It's a lovely afternoon."

When they got to the house, Mrs. V had much more than cake and Champagne. By that time, the four other women who lived at the house were home. Mrs. V set out a feast, with a roast she had been hoarding, green beans from the garden, and scalloped potatoes that were as light and dreamy as air. The formal dining room was decorated with hand-made signs, and Beth was passed from person to person as they hugged and exclaimed over the surprise nuptials.

James and Nell were the first to leave. "We'll give the Judge a ride back to the Courthouse," James said. "Thanks, Mrs. Vanderpoel. The food was delicious and the company charming."

"You're very welcome."

The other boarders helped to clean up and drifted back to their rooms. Beth and Sam went to her room, and he carried down the rest of her belongings and placed them in the trunk of the car.

"Thank you, Mrs. V, thank you for making our wedding day memorable." Beth hugged the older lady.

"Now, you just remember what I said, Beth." Tears swam in her faded blue eyes. It was always so hard to say goodbye.

Sam said his goodbyes, accompanied by a ferocious hug. Once they were alone in his car, he turned to her, a quizzical expression on his dear face. "What did Mrs. V mean when she asked you to remember your promise?"

Beth blushed again. "She made me promise to bring our children back here and let them call her Oma."

"That promise won't be too difficult to keep," Sam grinned at her. He started the car, and they were off to Crabapple Farm. They were quiet in the car, each thinking of the night to come.

Lights in the farmhouse were softly lit, and Beth couldn't help but think the delightful rambling house was embracing her.

"Welcome home, Beth."

"It's lovely, Sam. I can't wait to see the inside!" They gathered her few remaining possessions and climbed up onto the wrap-around porch. Sam set his burdens down. "One moment, Mrs. Belden."

He swept her up into his arms, opened the door and stepped over the threshold with her, held tightly to his chest.

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Earlier that afternoon, Debra went storming into her house. She was furious at her best friend, furious at Beth, just plain angry with the world. And there was Jerald, waiting for her. She became angry with him for causing a rift between her and Irene, up until the second she saw his battered face.

Her poor baby!

"How did it go, Ma?" Jerald was sure he'd be packing a bag tonight.

Debra's headache intensified. "Sit down, Jerry. I'll tell you the whole story."

Jerald picked up immediately on the tone of his mother's voice. Something happened. He sat down, legs pumping up and down in anticipation. "So?" he prodded when she didn't launch into her story immediately.

"We're not accompanying them. Joe and Irene haven't been able to speak to Beth since you came home, and they decided to make a special trip to Sleepyside. Joe is making arrangements with his boss for time off today. Irene disinvited us."

His voice was low and deadly. "What do you mean, Aunt Irene disinvited us?"

"Just that, Jerry. She went on and on about how it was a family matter like we're not family. Then she accused you of getting in a bar fight and making up the story about the corrupt cop."

Jerald's face darkened with rage, and Debra felt the stirrings of fear within her. Jerald, when he was good, could be very good. When he was bad, he wasn't just horrid. He was frightening.

"And what did you say to her, Mother?" His voice was icy calm.

"Of course, I defended you, Jerry! I told her you wouldn't make up a story like that! She also accused you of… of getting fresh with Beth. I know you, honey. You've always treated Beth with the utmost respect. Irene and I got into an argument over everything, and she asked me to leave. I did."

Jerald exploded out of the chair, knocking it backward onto the floor. "You've ruined everything, you stupid cow! I want you to march right back to Aunt Irene's house and wrangle an invitation."

Debra twisted her hands together in her lap. "Jerald, she said they decided to go alone before I even got there. I can't force her to invite us." Debra paused. "Besides, Jerald, they kicked you out of town. If the place is as corrupt as you say, there's a good possibility of you ending up in jail."

"You've ruined everything, Mother. Everything. Once the den Breejens get to Sleepyside, there will be no chance at all I can marry Beth. And it's all your fault." He was screaming the words, his face a blotchy red and his hands curled into fists.

"Jerald, calm down. The neighbors will hear! What do you mean, when Irene and Joe get to Sleepyside everything will be ruined?"

"You'll see, Mother. You'll see. I'm going out." Jerald grabbed her purse and took her wallet, removing the money within. "I don't know when I'll be back. Don't wait up."

A few minutes later she heard the door slam. She bowed her head and cried for lost dreams and hopes, for the loss of friendship, and the little piece of her that wondered if she gave birth to a monster.

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Sam was showing Beth around the house. It was warm and welcoming but lacked a woman's touch. The kitchen was large and airy, with a table and six chairs. "My dad made this because, well, at one time they thought they might have a large family. It wasn't to be, though."

"It's lovely, Sam." She ran her hand over the tabletop. "The whole house is beautiful."

"Thanks. Over the years there were additions put on, but they always made sure to keep the integrity of the house."

"Well, a good house has a stretchy heart. And a stretchy heart means there are stretchy walls. This house definitely has a stretchy heart."

Sam was stunned. "That's what my mother used to say, Beth. A stretchy heart and stretchy walls to welcome all." It was a sign, he was sure, that he made a good choice. "How about if I carry the rest of your things upstairs? I hung the dresses up in the closet and made room in the dresser. You can decide where you'd like all your things to go."

"That sounds fine, Sam. Oh, you can just place these two boxes in the office. My school things."

"All right, sweetheart. How about if I unpack them and make room in the desk? It will give you time to get situated upstairs."

"Sounds like a plan!"

He helped her carry up the remainder of her belongings, stopping again to carry her over the threshold of the bedroom door. It was a room fraught with the simmering desire that was building under the surface of them both.

Beth took off the wedding dress and hung it up, touching the delicate lace with a reverent hand. She would make sure she stored it properly so that maybe her future daughter or daughter-in-law might wear it. She walked around the bedroom in her slip and made short work of unpacking. The last item left on the bed was the box with the peignoir set. Dare she?

She sat on the bed, blushing at what she knew was going to occur there that night. She and Sam would consummate their union.

And she was not at all frightened. In fact, she bounced a little on the mattress and grinned. Time to head to the bathroom and make that peignoir work for her!

Sam bounded up the stairs after he was finished, only to find an empty bedroom. "Beth?" he called, almost expecting to discover the day had been a fevered dream.

"Sam." She opened the door from the bathroom. The light lit her from behind, almost as if she were an angel. His jaw dropped at first sight of her.

She had on lingerie, sexy lingerie. The robe and nightgown were some white gauzy material that barely hid her body, providing a tantalizing glimpse of the female form they covered. She was more beautiful than any of those pinups that were floating around. Prettier than Rita Hayworth or Ava Gardner or even Betty Grable. Her curls flowed around her face like a golden aura.

"You're beautiful," Sam breathed.

She smiled at him and crossed the room. Her scent was intoxicating to him. "And you're overdressed." Her bold words sent a jolt through his system.

"So are you, for what I have in mind." His lips met hers as he pulled her close, her nearly nude form warm and soft against his hard body.

"Make love to me, Sam," she begged.

"For the rest of my life, Mrs. Belden." He picked her up, and they tumbled onto the bed.

88888888

Joe and Irene den Breejen were motoring their way to Sleepyside. "The boss gave me Tuesday and Wednesday off, Irene. I think we should leave tonight, stop at one of those motor hotels along the way for the night, and continue in the morning. Beth will be at work until three or so. We can stop along the way to eat and then make our way to Mrs. Vanderpoel's. I'm sure she'd let us wait there until Beth gets back."

"I agree, Joe."

Once they were in the car and on their way, Irene turned to Joe. "I had a serious argument with Debra today," she confessed. "I ended up asking her to leave."

"What about?" Joe asked, but thought he knew anyway.

"She had the nerve to come over and begin to criticize us again about how we raised Beth. That she and John should go to Sleepyside with us because we didn't stop her from going, how were we going to bring her home? When I had the audacity to say something about Jerald, she jumped down my throat."

"What did you say about him?"

"I implied that he could have gotten in a bar fight and just didn't want to tell John. You know how many scrapes John got him out of already. She had the nerve to say Mrs. Vanderpoel was running a prostitution ring."

"What?" Joe swerved the car, then recovered. "What? Is she having a breakdown or something? I thoroughly vetted Mrs. Vanderpoel before I let Beth down there."

"Well, not thoroughly enough, according to Irene and Jerald. She accused Beth of… of not being virtuous. When I told her Beth complained to me that Jerald was fresh with her, well! You would think I accused him of being a murderer."

Joe's lips compressed into a grim line. "All this because we're taking care of a family matter?"

"She complained that she was family, and Joe, they are, but this is something we have to do ourselves. I tried to explain that to her, that Beth would feel all of us were ganging up on her. Plus, it's only fair to hear Beth's side. Jerald hasn't been a fount of truth at times."

"He's just being a boy. He'll settle…"

For once, Irene interrupted her husband. "Joe, I'm tired of you, John, and Debra making excuses for his bad behavior. If Jerald won't settle down for his parents, how do you suppose he'll miraculously change for Beth? Do you want to condemn our only daughter to life with that… that scoundrel?"

"Irene…"

"Don't Irene me, Joe. You were never like him. Neither is John. How many schools was Jerald thrown out of? He didn't go to college. He can't keep a job. Our daughter told me he has gotten fresh with her, she doesn't like him, and we didn't listen. That's part of the reason she moved so far away. Do you want her to work the rest to her life supporting his lazy behind? She's not a reform school, Joe. She's our daughter." Irene promptly burst into tears. Hearing herself say it like that, aloud… well, it wasn't nice to listen to.

And it just went to prove that what Debra said was true. They were bad parents.

88888888

Meanwhile, the word was spreading through the quaint little village downstate. Sam Belden married that pretty little English teacher. The one from out of town. Just like that! Party lines were exploding with the news. It was something happy to celebrate among all the grimness of the war.

The alarm went off early the next morning, and Sam slammed his hand down on it. He was so warm, comfortable and… married.

His Beth was stirring against him, her soft, naked form already familiar. Making love to her was every bit as exhilarating as he imagined. She joined in, unashamed and enthusiastic and he thanked God for the blessing he received by meeting her.

"Sam? What time is it?" her sleepy voice inquired. Jeepers, she didn't want to get up.

"It's early, baby. I need to get up and feed the chickens and do a couple of other early morning chores. Why don't you take a shower or bath while I'm puttering around?" He kissed her bare shoulder.

"Sounds wonderful. I'm, ah, a little sore." She blushed rosily as she said it. Sore in the most wonderful way.

Sam leaned over and planted a kiss on her lips. "I'll see you in a bit." What he really wanted to do was spend all day in that bed with her, but chores and work waited for them both. He jumped out of bed, and Beth could not help but admire his fine male figure as he pulled on his working-around-the-house clothes.

Her cheeks flushed even more as she watched him leave the bedroom. Jeepers, yesterday she had never even seen a naked man, and today… Well, today she was an experienced, married woman with an appreciation of a sexy male form.

Beth took a quick shower and thanked the Lord for her curly hair. She dressed in what she called her teacher clothes and ambled downstairs. A quick look in the refrigerator and the kitchen revealed the makings for breakfast. The mudroom held a couple of frilly aprons, so she tied one on and began to cook bacon, eggs, toast, and brewed a pot of coffee for her husband.

Sam fed the chickens, collected the eggs and checked the henhouse while he was outside. He had a small, scraggly-looking Victory Garden, and took care of some weeding. The colder crops would be coming in soon.

He stepped back into the house and was immediately assaulted by the delicious odors wafting through the mudroom. A feeling of nostalgia washed over him as he stepped into the kitchen to the sight of Beth wrapped in one of his mother's old aprons, placing two plates on the table.

"It smells wonderful, sweetheart," he remarked to his new bride as he sat.

"I hope it tastes wonderful, and my cooking skills did not erode at Mrs. Vanderpoel's." Beth took the chair next to his and smiled. She was concerned there might be some awkwardness between them after last night. Instead, there was just a comfortable feeling of finally being home.

"Beth, we need to figure out our work hours. I know teachers have a lot of time they work after hours and don't get paid for it. The bank is normally open from nine AM to three PM Monday through Friday. Occasionally, we'll be open later for the more rural customers."

"I'll have mostly the same hours for school. There may be times when I will meet with parents, have a staff meeting after hours, or chaperone a dance or other extra-curricular function. I'll let you know ahead of time."

"Do you know how to drive?"

"I do, although I haven't driven much."

"That simplifies matters. I can always bike home, but I don't want you to do so in the dark when our schedules don't mesh."

Beth bit her bottom lip. "Okay. Sam, my parents have been calling Mrs. Vanderpoel. I'm sure they are on their way down here."

"The guest room is ready," Sam's words were unexpected.

"You're not worried?"

Sam placed his fork on his now empty plate. "Beth, you're my wife now. You're over twenty-one and don't need their permission to do anything." He shrugged. "Either they accept our marriage, or they don't. They can't force you to go back upstate."

"I know, but I hate the fact they might upset you."

"Beth, nothing they can say to me about our marriage will upset me. Now, if they bring up that creep Jerald, that might be another story."

Beth's eyes were shining as she stepped over that scary cliff. "I love you, Sam."

Sam didn't respond at first. He hoped that someday she might say those words to him. He stood, still silent, and Beth wondered if she made a mistake by unburdening her heart.

He pulled her up, his lips on hers. "And I love you. From the first moment, I saw you in the bank." The words were rough and hoarse, said against her lips before he took them in a series of coffee-flavored kisses.

They broke apart, out of breath and wanting. "I, uh, need to shower and change, sweetheart."

"Uh-huh." That was all she could say. Her brain had turned into a goopy mess. A few moments later, she collected the dishes and waited until she couldn't hear the shower running to give them a quick wash and dry. She had heard of dishwashers and wondered if they could ever afford one.

Not long after, they were headed to work, their first time as a married couple.

As soon as Sam Belden entered the bank after dropping Beth at the school, the entire place erupted into cheers. The whole staff was waiting for him, including Mr. Handler, the President. His back was patted, his hand was shaken, and he spent the next several minutes wiping lipstick off his cheeks.

"Thank you, everyone. My Beth is a lovely woman, and I'm lucky to have her."

There were a couple of sighs from one or two of the tellers who had secret hopes Mr. Belden might, someday, ask them on a date. They should have known it was all over at the time that he assisted his future wife with her first banking transaction.

Later in the day, he was called to Mr. Handler's office. "Belden, I want to offer my congratulations again. Take a seat."

"Yes, sir. Thank you."

"I've been reviewing your file. You are an excellent employee and a fair and balanced loan officer. Now that you've married, you'll have additional responsibilities. Effective immediately, I'm giving you a ten dollar a week raise. If you finish your schooling, there's no reason why you wouldn't be able to climb to even higher positions in the bank."

"Thank you again, sir. I appreciate your faith in me." Sam was floored. He never expected this.

"Just don't let me down."

"I won't." And come hell or high water, he wouldn't.

Back at the high school, Beth was receiving a similar reception from her co-workers. In fact, they arranged a little party in the teachers' lounge, decorated with homemade signs and cupcakes for later. Beth's eyes filled as she thanked her colleagues, not only for the mini-party but for the warm reception she had at the school ever since she came to Sleepyside.

When she entered her classroom, she wrote in her neat penmanship on the blackboard: Mrs. Belden. It was the first time she wrote her name, had the pleasure of looking at it and had a distinct thrill run down her spine at the pleasures associated with it.

Yeah. She was happy.

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Debra Olmstead never slept well when Jerald wasn't home. She always kept one ear and one eye open, waiting for the slamming of the front door. It wasn't the first time he stayed out all night, but it was the first time they argued so bitterly.

She was making breakfast for John and burned his toast, bursting into wracking sobs. John glanced around the kitchen as if he expected a savior to appear from within the fridge. When one was not forthcoming, he sighed, out down the paper, and asked her just what the problem was.

"I had that big argument with Irene and Jerald, and now he hasn't come home!"

"Deb, this isn't the first time he's stayed out all night." John's voice was weary. He just hoped he wouldn't be getting a call at work from some police department to come and bail him out. Again.

"But he was so angry, John! You weren't here. He accused me of eliminating any chances he had to marry Beth."

"You know how he exaggerates, Debra."

She threw a dark glance to her spouse. In his own way, he was as dismissive as Jerald. "There's something different this time, John."

He shrugged and went back to his paper.

Their errant offspring was neither in jail nor headed down to Sleepyside. He awoke in a cheap room in the seedy side of Rochester, not remembering where he was for a second. He turned around, and the lifeless body of the woman he picked up was staring at the ceiling.

He didn't jump, scream, or wonder what happened. He got dressed, took all her money, and slipped out the back way. A while later, he had his thumb out, headed west.

A trail of dead, curly-haired blondes would follow him from state to state.

88888888

Joseph and Irene den Breejen arrived in Sleepyside around eleven AM. They were hungry and tired from the drive, and Irene was just about at her breaking point. "We ate at Wimpy's last time we were here, Irene. Let's grab some lunch and head on over to Mrs. Vanderpoel's."

The diner was rather quiet at that time, so they were served without undue waiting, An hour later, they were ringing the doorbell at the neat boarding house.

Mrs., Vanderpoel did not seem at all surprised to see them. "Mr. and Mrs. den Breejen! Won't you come in?"

Irene stammered, "I'm sorry to surprise you like this, Mrs. Vanderpoel." How could this lovely woman be involved in anything even remotely criminal?

"It's quite all right. Have you eaten lunch?"

"We stopped at Wimpy's before coming here," Joe responded as she led them to her private parlor. "We didn't want to put you out any more than was necessary."

"Have a seat." Mrs. V gestured to the couch. "You know Beth is working. How can I help you?"

"We received a disheartening report from one of Beth's oldest friends," Irene began. They had decided earlier that Irene would lead the discussion, as Joe had been shut down by the landlady.

"I'm sure you did."

"Then you are admitting something is going on with Beth?" Joe jumped right in, his tone accusatory.

"Tell me what you think happened," Mrs. V invited. Oh, this should be good!

"We have friends back home, a lovely couple who have two sons. One is in the armed forces and the other…" Irene's voice trailed off. "The other one is Jerald Olmstead. He and Beth have been friends ever since they were in diapers. Both families were hoping for a marriage between them."

"And what did Beth want?" There, out loud, was the question Irene was asking herself since yesterday.

"Beth doesn't know what she wants," Joe interrupted. Women. Talk, talk, talk, and never get to the meat of the matter.

Mrs. Vanderpoel said nothing as Irene subtly elbowed her spouse. "Jerald made a special trip to Sleepyside a couple of days ago," Irene continued. "He came back with tales that Beth is dating a ne'er do well who manhandled her. Jerald said when he tried to intervene and enlist the aid of a police officer, the officer allowed the man to severely beat Jerald. His face was black and blue all over. Then the officer sent Beth and the man into your house, and he threatened Jerald with jail time if he didn't leave town immediately." God, it sounded so melodramatic in the retelling.

Almost as if it were a yarn some enterprising author typed out.

"We haven't been able to get in touch with Beth since then, and we're concerned for our daughter."

"I think this Jerald of yours left a few details out of the story," Mrs. V. said dryly.

Irene shot a glance to Joe. "What do you mean?"

"Beth has been seeing a lovely young man, Samuel Belden. He's a responsible, levelheaded man, works at Sleepyside Savings and Loan in town as a loan officer. He owns his own house, free and clear. His parents died early, one right after the other, and he had to grow up fast."

"That's not how Jerald…"

Mrs. V interrupted the man. "He couldn't know. He never bothered to speak to Sam or Beth. He grabbed Beth, hard, leaving marks on her skin. Sam stepped in to protect her. Jerald, as you call him, called her vile names and was going to take a swing at her until Sam intervened. I heard the commotion and called the police. Jerald tried to lie and state Sam started it. Jerald took offense at that, called her, and please excuse my bad language, a lying bitch and lunged at her. Sam laid him out on the sidewalk with one punch."

"Oh, he did a heck of a lot of damage with one punch," Joe sneered.

"It was just one punch. I saw it myself. Officer Molinson advised Sam and Beth to go into the house with me, and they did."

"Well, then, the cop must have beaten Jerald," Joe replied. It wasn't unheard of, but why would Jerald lie about it?

"You can go to the police station and ask for Officer Derek Molinson. He can tell you what happened next. All I know is he had a few words with Jerald and Jerald took off. Officer Molinson did not strike that horrible young man."

"Mrs. Vanderpoel, would it be all right if we waited for Beth? I'd really like to speak to her about all of this." Irene twisted her hands together. If everything Mrs. Vanderpoel was stating was true, then they owed Beth an apology.

Mrs. Vanderpoel waited for a beat and then dropped her bombshell. "Beth doesn't reside here any longer. She married Sam Belden yesterday in a civil ceremony and moved to Crabapple Farm."

88888888

Sam was parked out front of the high school, waiting for his Beth. He smiled and tipped his hat to some of the giggling teenage girls who thought their exclamations of, "There he is!" and "That's Miss den… Mrs. Belden's husband!" were whispers.

Beth was following them, a beaming smile on her face. He looked so sexy, leaning against his car with a grin creasing his handsome face. "Hello, gorgeous." He greeted her with a conservative peck on the cheek.

"Hello, yourself, handsome. How was your day?"

"Any lipstick on my collar is the result of being passed around at work like a basket of warm bread," he joked.

"Ah, the native drum beat even reached those hallowed halls." She laughed up at him as he assisted her into the car.

"Yes, it was quite a day!"

Neither of them noticed the dark car following them onto the road leading to out of town to Crabapple Farm.

88888888

Earlier that day, after Mrs. Vanderpoel made her stunning announcement, Irene whitened to the point of nearly passing out as Joe roared his displeasure. "What? And you didn't think to call us beforehand?"

Mrs. V merely raised her brows. "Beth is a fully-grown woman, and I am not in the habit of interfering in my boarders' decisions. Nor would I contact you unless she asked me to do so."

"Joe!" Irene chastised her husband. "Married? I don't understand. She can't have known this Sam very long at all."

"Sometimes, you just know from a first glance."

"Life isn't a fairytale, Mrs. Vanderpoel. This isn't Cinderella where Prince Charming takes one look at my daughter and falls for her. It doesn't happen in real life." Joe was sure of it.

"Life is what you make of it, Mr. den Breejen. Everyone needs a little magic in their lives, just as everyone needs to believe in fairytales. I think if you believe hard enough, wish hard enough, work hard enough, and believe in the magic of everyday life, those dreams and wishes do come true."

"Was it… was it a nice ceremony?" Irene's voice broke a little. Her only child, married, and she didn't even attend.

"It was lovely. She wore my gown and headpiece… I donated them to her so she wouldn't have to use her normal dresses. I know Judge Webster's secretary took pictures. I'm sure they'll send you copies when they're developed."

"And this Sam… he's a good man? Truly?"

"He is the best. He's kind, smart, and capable. When my husband passed, Sam was the one who helped me with the renovations to the house so I could take in paying boarders. He made sure I wasn't getting cheated and even arranged a small loan with the bank."

They spent a few more hours with the genteel landlady before heading on over to the bank. They wanted to get a look at this paragon of virtue; however, they were stymied in their effort. Sam Belden wasn't at his desk.

"I think we should head over to police headquarters," Joe proclaimed. "Talk to this officer. Who knows who is telling the truth here."

For once, the unhappy couple had some luck. Officer Molinson was in and would be more than willing to answer any questions. They were led into the detectives' interrogation room, the only place where they could have a private conversation.

"Hello, I'm Derek Molinson. How may I help you?" The young officer extended his hand, and both Joe and Irene shook it. He looked far too nice to have beaten anyone, let alone a big man like Jerald.

Joe took the lead. "I understand there was a conflict in front of Mrs. Vanderpoel's boarding house a few days ago."

Molinson frowned and sat facing the couple. "May I ask what your interest is in this?"

"We're Beth's parents. Joe and Irene den Breejen. The man who was beaten was the son of a friend of ours."

"Beaten? I hardly think one punch can be defined as a beating."

"Officer Molinson, I saw Jerald with my own eyes. His face was completely black and blue as well as his shoulders."

Molinson sighed. "Jerald, as you call him, was manhandling your daughter. I saw the marks on her myself. Sam Belden was defending her. When she showed me the marks Olmstead caused on her, he called her a bad name and lunged at her, his arm raised. Sam laid him out with one, and only one, punch. After that, I advised them to go into Mrs. Vanderpoel's. He not only threatened me, but he also stated he would go to the chief and make a report about how I allowed Sam to assault him. I advised him that it would be in his best interests to leave town immediately, as I saw the marks he left on Beth's skin."

"How do you know this Sam didn't leave them there?" Joe challenged.

"Because your daughter told me Olmstead did it." Molinson was silent for a minute. Should he reveal what he told Olmstead? What he saw? He looked at the two distraught people sitting in front of him. Being a cop, he was quick to size up folks, criminal or otherwise. The man was a bit of a martinet, but the woman was genuinely concerned about her daughter… who just married Sam Belden.

"You look like nice people," he began in a mild, soothing tone. "I'm sure Olmstead's parents may be nice, too. But nothing can change the fact that he bruised your daughter's skin, called her a wicked name in public. And when we were alone, I notice he stunk of cheap perfume and had lipstick smeared on his shirt and… and other places. Lipstick that could only come from one woman in town who wore that shade. Sleepyside's resident bad girl."

Irene covered her mouth, scrubbing at her cheeks. "You mean Jerald was… was with a prostitute earlier in the day?"

"I mean just that. And whatever happened between them, the woman did a midnight flit and left town. Left most of her belongings in the crappy room, she was renting. I know, because the landlord came in to make a complaint." Molinson nearly laughed in Olyphant's face. He did, however, accompany him to Patty Jones' room, where he verified the woman did abscond without paying her rent.

And that there was a splash of blood on her bed. He couldn't really connect that to Olmstead, but Molinson had a feeling that Patty Jones was hurt, and hurt badly.

Molinson felt sorry for the couple in front of him. They were ashen with shock and grief. "Listen, folks, I know you probably already heard that your daughter married Sam Belden. He's a good man, and he'll stand by her. He'd never think of laying a finger on her, ever. If I were you, I would count my blessings my daughter didn't get involved with Olmstead. She'd end up dead."

88888888

Once at home, Sam and Beth began their chores. Earlier that morning, Beth put a chicken from the freezer out to defrost. "Next year, I'll put up beans and corn," she murmured out loud. She cut up some carrots and potatoes to place around the chicken, covered the roaster and called to Sam. He had changed and was cutting the lawn in the back yard.

"Sam, I'm going out front to pick up the mail." They were deep in conversation when they pulled into the long driveway at the farm and forgot to stop. The two figures in the dark car parked to the side of the house watched her bouncing step as Beth followed the flagstone path to the mailbox. She glanced up, saw the car and paled.

Straightening her shoulders, she inhaled deeply and approached the vehicle. "Mom. Dad," she acknowledged them. She did not ask what they were doing in Sleepyside. She knew.

"Bethie." Irene was struggling with her emotions.

"Bring the car up the driveway, and I'll meet you in the backyard," she said. "Sam is cutting the grass in the orchard."

She turned and headed back into the house. The only sign of agitation was her white knuckles clutching the mail.

Sam looked up when he heard the car, stopped and wiped his brow. It may be September, but it was still plenty warm. Beth came out with a pitcher of lemonade and glasses on a tray and set in on the picnic table.

"Sam? My parents are here," she called to him, her voice shaking.

"Let me go in and wash up." A few long strides brought him to her side. "Will you be okay?"

"I think so."

He bent down and brushed a kiss across her lips. "You will be, strong girl."

The door to the mudroom closed behind Sam as her parents approached. They saw that little kiss. Her father knew what that meant in male-speak. She's mine.

"Beth. Oh, Beth!" Irene broke into the tears that shimmered in her eyes. "Married."

Beth ran to her, held her mother. "Mommy, don't cry. It's all good. I promise. You and Daddy sit down and have some lemonade. Sam went into the house to wash up."

Joe grabbed Beth's hand, pulled her into a bear hug as Irene sat. It was then he noticed the still-visible bruises on her arms. "Mind telling me about those?" His voice may have been level, but his insides were torn up.

"I'm sure Jerald told you alllll about it, Daddy."

"He did. Now I want to hear what you have to say."

Beth busied herself pouring glasses of the frosty drink for her parents, her words measured and basically corroborating what Mrs. Vanderpoel and Officer Molinson related.

Sam joined her, silent, letting her speak. He noted the rise of color up her father's neck and the sorrowful expression on her mother's face.

"That's not what Jerald told us," Joe growled and looked up at Sam for the first time.

"I'm afraid Jerald may have lied about a lot of things," Sam offered. He stuck out his hand. "I'm Sam Belden, Beth's husband."

Joe looked at the hand, his daughter, and placed his hand into Sam's. The man had a good grip, firm and rough. A man who worked with his hands as well as with his mind.

Sam turned to Irene, still sniffling. She surprised both Beth and Sam when she jumped up, ran to the other side of the table and embraced him. "Thank you for taking care of my baby," she whispered.

"I'll be proud to take care of her for the rest of our lives," he whispered back. "I love her." Irene nodded and returned to her seat and the refreshing lemonade.

"I know you and Beth have some things to talk about," Sam smiled. "And I need to finish cutting that grass before the sun sets. Our guest room is waiting for you tonight." He gave them a little salute and went back to the mower.

"Did he mean that? About the guest room?" Irene looked at her daughter. Beth looked… happy. Content. Glowing with health.

"Sure, he did, Mom. We spoke about it earlier in the day. We both had a notion you would be down here sooner rather than later. I have a roast chicken in the oven, more than enough for all of us. How long does Daddy have off?"

"I have to be back to work on Thursday, Beth. Are you sure Sam won't mind us spending the night?"

"Of course not, Daddy. Like I said, he was planning on it this morning. Our home has a stretchy heart as well as stretchy walls."

A stretchy heart and stretchy walls. Yeah. That motto would be sorely tested in the future. But because there were love and laughter, the center always held true.

 **Epilogue**

Jerald Olmstead finally met his maker in prison for the murder of a young woman he mistook for a prostitute in Flagstaff, Arizona, several years after fleeing Rochester, New York. His parents were there for his trial, steadfastly maintaining that their boy could not have committed this sickening crime.

David Olmstead, back in one piece from the war, had no problem believing his brother was a murderer. He packed up his stuff and moved to a small town in Maine, eventually becoming a beloved teacher as well as marrying a small-town beauty.

His parents never knew or cared to meet their daughter-in-law or their grandchildren. They kept their heads high in Pittsford. His father took his son's quiet confession to the grave. The last time they spoke before Jerald was executed, his son smirked at him. "Pops, let me tell you. There were way more than one. _And they all looked like Beth."_

The friendship between the Olmsteads and the den Breejens never resumed. Especially not when Irene and Joe returned from Sleepyside, full of stories about their daughter and her new husband, Sam. Sam this and Sam that!

It should have been Jerald, and the Olmsteads never forgave the den Breejens' defection.

Joe and Irene den Breejen eventually sold their house after the war ended and Joe retired, moving to a small house in Sleepyside to be close to their daughter and son-in-law, and eventually, the three boys that Beth popped out. Rapscallions, all of them, but they brought great joy to the older couple.

Months after Patty Jones returned home, she glanced at the birth certificate. Bertram Jones, father unknown. But, she did know who the father was, that man who hurt her insides so badly, the doctor said she'd never have another child after this.

A year or two later, she found religion and married a member of the small church she joined. She didn't find it well enough to confess to her husband about her former life. Elroy Jones (no relation) bought a small truck farm, and she and her boy became country folk. As far as anyone knew, Jonesy was her and her husband's child. She worried about her boy, though, with his explosive temper and the I want line between his brows.

And Beth and Sam? Well, they finished their degrees within a year. After the war, Beth became pregnant, and Harold, Peter, and Andrew followed in quick succession. Beth retired from school teaching to be a stay-at-home mom. Her boys, all of them, were her pride and joy.

Sam did rise in the ranks at the bank. He might never be president – too many behinds to be kissed and office politics as he explained to his Beth. The bank expanded to several nearby towns, and he was promoted to Chief Loan Officer. It was a responsible and busy position, what with servicemen returning from the war and wanting nothing more than to settle down with their sweethearts.

They may have married in haste, but they never did repent in leisure.

88888888

Trixie Belden Frayne closed the journal she found in the attic of Crabapple Farm. It was in a small, dusty trunk that had gotten wedged behind a dresser that belonged to her uncles. The dresser hadn't been moved in years, maybe since it was brought upstairs. She was seven months along, and she and Jim were looking for the family christening dress when it was discovered.

She brushed a tear from those fabulous blue eyes of hers. "Oh, I never knew all that about my grandparents."

Jim grinned at her and pointed to the other contents of the trunk. "And now I know where you got that detective-ing gene from." The box was filled with True Detective and Ellery Queen magazines, as well as a plethora of dogeared Agatha Christie mysteries.

"Daddy never said a word."

"I would think these stories were your grandma's guilty pleasures. I wonder what ever happened to Patty Jones? You don't think…"

"No, she wanted to be an actress. I suppose she just went back to New York City." Nope. No way.

"I bet your grandma would be so proud of you, baby."

"You know, we're kinda like Sam and Beth," Trixie mused.

"How so?" Jim helped her rise. "Oof!"

"Oof yourself, Ace," she snorted. Her face softened as she watched his emerald eyes. "Sam and Beth. All it took was one look. And they knew."

"They weren't in a dilapidated old mansion," Jim countered, drawing her close.

"But they knew, right from the start."

"Just like we did." Unable to resist her mouth, Jim bent down and brushed his lips against hers. Deciding that little taste did nothing to slake his thirst, he leaned in for more.

Neither one heard the happy sigh that reverberated in the attic.

"C'mon Beth, time to go home." Sam Belden stuck out his hand.

His beloved Beth placed her hand in his as his long, strong fingers curled around hers. "Always, Sam. _Always."_


End file.
